War Prize
by agapimou34
Summary: Alternate ending to the episode(s): Comrades In Arms- The night Hawkeye and Margaret get lost in enemy territory, something much more dire goes wrong. They get discovered by a North Korean soldier and find themselves in a desperate struggle between life and death. One is stripped of her freedom, and both their lives are changed forever.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I own nothing, of course, all rights go to the creators of the show. I really hope you enjoy this, as this is one of my longer and more detailed stories. Please R &R if you can! No flames plz- Thanks! :)**

 **Margaret's Prelude:**

A story like mine has never been told. I don't doubt that other guys in war have had bigger, better tales of experience, of adventure. But my story is different. My story is not some extravagant, heroic soldiers ramble, for I am not a soldier. Though there was a time in my life where I longed to be one, I was a nurse. Other than Frank Burns showing me his pistol, I'd never really held a gun in my life… At least not with purpose.

I wish my story had better moments to it, because I sure as hell do not intend to tell you this to make you sad or feel sorry for me. But I can't scratch out the truth anymore than I can blot in a lie. My tale is of loss and great suffering and pain, of loneliness and the darkest emotions a human being should never have to experience. It is also of hope and faith and miracles and love, romance and raw ferocity.

This is the story of how I went from being a Major in the Korean War, to a POW, to a communist house slave, to a... Well, you get the picture. I'll just let you figure it out for yourself. Me? I'm still writing the ending.

 **Prologue:**

She remembers the night. It was dark and hot, humid with a slight breeze coming in off the pacific. They were in that little shack of a thing, Hawkeye and her sharing a quiet bottle of gin, nothing but the sound of birds outside. Everyone at the 4077th, anyone who knew Hawkeye almost always liked him. He was charming, frighteningly brilliant, and _the_ lady killer of all time. Handsome, strong… A wonderful prize for any woman to aim at. But he was more than that to her. She knew they cared for each other more than either of us would have liked.

Margaret had affairs with other men before. Hell, she even married Donald in a rash starry-eyed moment. These flings came and went, however, always drifting by to get her hopes up before deserting her like always.

Now she knew that she had never known the true loving of a man before Hawkeye. They went back farther than anyone else at the 4077th. _He'd been there all along,_ she thought, _my god, right there and I still kept looking._

That's why when they got lost, she was more terrified than she'd ever been in her entire life. They had been on a wild sprint from the battlefield, disoriented, hungry, cold, and seeking shelter from the regular 5 o'clock shelling. Eventually, their usual luck kicked in and they found an abandoned hut located on the outskirts of what used to be a village, leveled by the AK47s so many called 'Good Old American Achievement'.

She remembers so vividly pacing back and forth, wondering how the hell they'd get back alive from Battalion aid. _I was so mad at him,_ she thought to herself, _I was sure at the time it was all his fault._ But now, the more Margaret thought about it, (and she had more times than anybody could count), she realized she didn't blame him at all. She never could. She was ineffably in love and she was too damn scared to admit it.

Eventually sleep seemed to beckon them. So, with apprehensive reluctance, Hawkeye blew out the candle and let darkness engulf the hut. Margaret laughs as she recalled how she slept with a large stick next to her in case she'd have to wake up and fight some Chinese Colonel. Hawkeye's weapon of choice would've been a cold martini, but who was keeping score?

As always, there was no rest for the weary, though. Not even five minutes after they lay down their heads, the bombs came. Loud, like bright flashes of lightning, the clamor of death in their ears. Margaret flinches as she remembers this part. _They were right outside our door, I swear to god._

She started screaming, and Hawkeye crawled over with his one bad leg to help her. That was the first time Margaret, the toughest army nurse around, cried in his arms and asked him to hold her. _But if I knew that was the last time I'd ever get to hold him, I'd of held him and never let go,_ She mauled.

And then they kissed. It was her first, real kiss, she's sure of it. It was electricity and fear and desperate passion and love and raw and beautiful all at once. She knew with every part of her being that one single moment was the best few seconds of her life.

Then there was the calm before the storm. Eventually the bombs stopped falling, and just like that, all was silent again. Hawkeye said he guessed it was North Korea's bedtime and good old GI Joe agreed to come back and play tomorrow. Margaret laughed at that.

They just sat there for a few minutes, breathing in time with each other, hearts beating together. Margaret didn't even think, not in her wild, twisted mind, that what happened next would happen. It was all surreal, like filmstrips on a movie roll. Before they could utter a word to each other, they both heard a gruff shouting of orders growing closer. And closer. And next thing she knew, they were running for their lives through some dark forest, birch trees standing tall all around them like white ghosts.

She remember hearing their cries from behind them in the distance, a foreign language that sounded like an incantation of some sort. Hawkeye's hand tensed in hers, and she prayed to every god she could think of. She swore they were going to die.

The next thing she knew, a lasso out of nowhere found it's way around her neck. From the combined force and shock of it all, she lost her footing on the rocky hill side and tumbled to the ground. The twine material was rough and scratchy, suffocating her every breath. She hit the dry earth hard with an aching jolt. Her head was fuzzy, and the sounds and sights before her were moving in slow motion. A concussion, she subconsciously self-diagnosed herself.

She remembers Hawkeye gazing upon it all in disbelief and fear, angst and hysteria as he cried her name. Hawkeye, oh, God, he was devastated. Her heart broke at the look on his face. He tried to help her, came down the ravine to untie her, but she screamed at him to run away. He looked at her like she was insane. _Damn it, Pierce, why did you have to be so stubborn?_

The Cavalry brigade was approaching, horses whinnying and snorting. She remembers how their breath clouded the air. He shouted to her again, and this time she screamed as loud as she could the words that would forever be branded into her memory. " _If you ever cared about me, if you ever loved me at all, then you'll run away right now, Benjamin!"_

To this day, she thinks Hawkeye was so shocked at her words that he complied, eyes wide in horror and heartbreak. That was the first time since they'd met each other that she called him Benjamin. She memorized his face like it was the last thing she'd ever see; those blue eyes frantic and terrified unlike she'd ever witnessed them. She would've never imagined that the joker, Hawkeye Pierce, could look so dire.

He got away, able to run faster than Margaret no matter how much he tried to get her to keep pace with him. In a blind panic he'd scrambled up the ravine, sure that Margaret was following him, before turning around to see the impossible. His body was tense, black hair ruffled by the running combined with wind.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he left. But not before wailing in grief, " _Damn you!",_ his voice cracked and shaky with tears. His soft, baritone voice… It had an inhuman sound to it that haunted Margaret, something she just couldn't believe had come from him. She could only stare back at him with pained eyes as he literally forced himself to disappear into the trees.

She watched, not letting her head drop until she was sure that he was far away. Her vision became even more blurry as figures crowded around her- she vaguely remembers more ropes being tied around her wrists, horses clomping their hooves and shouts in Korean combined with the skeleton like shadow of rifles.

Hawkeye was the last thing she thought of as her body surrendered to exhaustion, legs quivering before she gave way to the fringes of oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! Sorry for the late update- please review if you can! I own nothing except Hea, Kai, and** **Areum. Btw, a** ** _Hanbok_** **is a traditional Korean dress worn by girls. Look it up, it's really quite brilliant. Please R &R if you can, more is coming soon! :)**

2 weeks later…

"Honestly, I don't know why the Americans drag their women into this," Kai spoke bitterly as the two washed their clothes in the river, "they are practically begging us to take them. Who allows such ridiculousness in wartime?"

Hea kept her head bowed as she plunged her _hanbok_ into the water. Try as she might, the younger girl couldn't help but think about the newest recruit to their gisaeng house. The woman was unlike anything any of them had ever seen before. An American, middle aged, long blonde hair with eyes like the sea. She certainly stood out- every customer had wanted her the minute word got around Busan that an American woman was open for the taking.

She hadn't seen much of the lady since she arrived, but Areum had whispered in her ear one night that she was frustrating the head mistress with her defiance. It normally took about a month to register and train a gisaeng, prepare them before giving them to the public. But if what rumor spread was true, this new American would take much longer.

"Hea? Are you listening to me?" Kai's words cut through her day dreaming, and Hea turned to her older brother.

"Yes?"

Kai sighed and shook his head, wringing his clothes out of the water. "Father always said you had your head in the clouds."

"Oh… Right." Hea replied, absentmindedly hanging up her dress to dry on the twine clothes line hooked between two birch trees. In truth, she felt bad for the American. She could only imagine how many welts covered those pale legs from the beating of a bamboo stick by now. All her life, seemingly, Hea was told by everyone around her that Americans were bad. They were ruthless, cold blooded killers who came in from the sea to steal away their children, rape their land and take their people. White G.I.s were to be feared, no question there. With their shining rifles and advanced weaponry, she shivered just thinking about them.

But this American was different. She was a woman, unarmed and afraid, different than anything she'd ever been told about. Hea had only seen her once, when she was brought in 2 weeks ago, dirty and near unconscious. She was wearing a torn green jacket and pants, dressed more as a man than a woman. She had no dress, no marking to show she was married or a diplomat. Of course there were the military rank symbols sewn onto her shirt, but those meant nothing to Hea as she could not understand them. Kai said the Americans only gave their women ranks to make them feel important, that they only ever truly honored the men. Nonetheless, this woman had captivated her interest, and Areum said curiosity was her greatest asset.

"I must go back to Inchon soon," Kai continued, "the Americans are pushing us back and we hope to combat it further enough."

Hea nodded, reaching out to touch her brother's sleeve as they approached the village. "Kai… You know I worry for you, right?"

Kai stopped, looking down at his younger sister and smiled. "I know, Hea. I worry for you, too. Always."

The two exchanged glances, Hea still clutching to his sleeve, fingering the raised stitching of the red star on his cuffs. And though she was only 19, the girl felt older than ever before.

They paused when a jeep honked its horn, and Hea looked to see Areum's twin Seung waving at Kai to join them.

Kai smiled at his sister, and the two hugged briefly. Hea tried her best to remember the feeling of his shoulders, the familiar scent of dirt and gunpowder before he left. She huffed, folding her hands under her sleeves.

She wondered how often she'd have to say goodbye to her brother until one day he'd never return.

It was late at night when Areum brought the American to their dorm, the soft candle light casting shadows across the pillow covered floor as Hea finished organizing her makeup for tomorrow's client.

Soft murmurs and whispers echoed through the hallway, and only when Areum got close enough could Hea hear the sobs that accompanied her.

"Hea!" Her friend called, wrenching the door open as she half dragged, half helped the woman inside, "Please, make room for Margaret."

 _Margaret? These Americans and their strange names,_ Hea thought to herself as she quickly set up a pillow and cotton covered jute mat.

Before she could open her mouth to question what was going on, Areum sighed and helped the woman to sit. "Head mistress said she could not take her blubbering any longer and that perhaps we could help her… adjust."

Hea frowned, sitting cross legged from the two. The woman seemed to shrink away. "What's the matter with her now? I thought she was angry and defiant."

"She was," Areum noted with sadness in her voice, "now she just cries day and night."

The woman murmured something in english, and Areum, one of the few who could speak the language, seemed to comfort her, patting her shoulder gently.

"What did she say?" Hea asked.

"She wants to go home." Areum replied, wide eyes soft with sympathy. Areum always was the compassionate one, favored by Head mistress for her skills at adapting new recruits into the lifestyle.

Hea only wondered where 'home' could be. "Home as in America, or where she was before? Which, by the way since no one tells me anything anymore, where did she come from?"

Areum sighed. "I don't know… She hardly talks. She was with an American man when they found her, though, in the woods across the Yalu. We had to bathe her when she first came in, she was filthy. The only word she cried as we did so was 'doctor'."  
The younger girl cocked her head in confusion. _Doctor? I thought only men were doctors... Kai made a good point; what are the Americans doing, sending their women out here?_

"It makes sense, actually," Areum said as if reading her mind, "while Americans don't allow their women to fight, they do bring them to help doctors fix up soldiers in those strange little villages along side the road."

Hea gasped- she knew exactly what her friend was talking about. "You mean the place where Duk Sang was healed?" Duk Sang was the Head Mistress's son, an accomplished general who'd been wounded and taken to one of these strange villages. Everyone assumed the Americans had tortured him for information, but when he mysteriously returned healed without a word, they were all speechless. His body was sound, but he never fought the same again.

"Yes." Areum confirmed. "They were trying to capture the man for information, but he ran away. I guess the poor thing wasn't fast enough, so they took her instead. One is better than none, right?"

Hea sighed deflatedly, nodding. "Yeah… Right."

The woman suddenly uttered a clear sentence, and while her eyes were still red from crying, the words were spoken without hesitation and deliberately.

"What did she say?" Hea questioned eagerly.

Areum answered the woman before Hea, voice reassuring even in that strange tongue. She turned back to Hea, looking troubled. "She wants to know what we want from her… I said we'd explain it in the morning."

Hea nodded, studying the lady. Her hair was golden even in the dim light, her face afraid yet experienced. She didn't look too old, but within a few years she might be approaching retirement from being a gisaeng. She had been redressed in new clothes, a simple soft pink hanbok instead of the ragged clothes she had on earlier. Her eyes were what interested her the most. _Their eyes,_ Hea thought dazedly, _westerner's eyes are captivating. I'm not sure if I would call them beautiful, nor would I call them ugly… They are just… captivating. The color of the ocean is not something you'd expect to see on the human body._

"Don't worry, Areum," Hea assured her friend, who was already looking apprehensive, "we'll tell her together. Besides, I don't see what they're so worked up about. I know it's scary at first, but after a while every woman gets used to it." It was true, after all, Hea thought as she laid down on her pillow for bed, remembering how terrified she was three years ago when she became a gisaeng. _Having to give your body to whomever the headmistress decides is nerve wracking… but after a while you learn to be strong, be cunning, be hopeful. If I had never become a gisaeng, I'd never met Areum._

The last thought in her head as she drifted to sleep was, _I wonder if she and that man were in love._


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello! Sorry for the late update (again)- I am trying to continue this story** **through** **the busy year! R &R if you can! All rights go to creators of the show!**

Margaret Houlihan was afraid. Afraid to open her eyes and see that it wasn't all a dream, that she was still in this awful place. She tried lying to herself over and over, tried convincing herself that it wasn't real. It couldn't be. But it was. And when she opened her eyes that first morning, fuzzy amoebas of light clouding her vision, she realized the impossible was possible.

That little Korean girl was still with her, sleeping beside her on the jute mat. She seemed to be the only one around here who spoke any english, let alone was willing to even look at her. All the other women she'd encountered on her way in this awful place shunned her, looked away as she passed or stared in disgust. Never had she felt so ashamed for no good reason. A voice in the back of her mind echoed; _this is only the beginning._

She looked around the bamboo stick room, wondering whether or not she should try to escape. It was just barely dawn, birds chirping and quiet suffocating her. However, she knew better than to make a run for it. She didn't need to know much to see the soldiers stationed at every corner, rifles loaded and ready.

Still, she had no idea what was happening. Would they torture her for information? Surely she had nothing to give them. _Maybe when they find out I'm just a nurse at a hospital, they'll let me go,_ she thought. Oh, that notion was so tempting to believe.

Her back ached and her eyes were sore from crying, begging and pleading and degrading herself only to be thrown in here with no explanation whatsoever. Suddenly, without warning, a foreign rage consumed the major like a pillar of fire. _After all I've been through, all these months in this hell stitching up maimed and burned bodies of young boys, being so far from everything I know, after how hard I worked, I deserve an answer, dammit! I DESERVE MORE THAN THIS!_

Before she even knew what she was doing, she grabbed the ceramic bowl that held water last night the other girl used for washing her face. She slammed it against the ground with a loud crack and, almost as if on primitive instinct, took two jagged pieces and held the one sharpened end against the girl's neck.

The loud noise awoke both of them, and suddenly the english speaking girl was wide-eyed and panicked, trying to get away. Margaret's body trembled with anger and she held the girl by her hair, jagged edge ready to slice her throat.

"Where am I and what do you want from me?" She demanded, though it came out more like a feral growl.

The was shaking, and her friend, the one who shared the room with them, advanced to help her. Margaret held the other piece out towards her threateningly, as if she was wielding a sword. "Don't touch me," she hissed, "don't touch me, you dirty red rats. What the hell do you want from me?"

"P-please," the girl stuttered under Margaret's grasp, "we won't hurt you here. We're not officers. We're like you."

The small voice of a child was all it took for the rage to vanish from the major. She'd forgotten in one moment of blind fury just how young these girls were. In shock at her own actions, she dropped the shards of pottery and released the girl.

The girl swallowed, staring at the blonde woman in fear. Her friend was talking to her in Korean, seemingly comforting her by rubbing her shoulders in concern.

"We are just like you. My name is Areum. This is my friend, Hea. We share room together." She spoke softly and cautiously, as if any word could set the major off again.

Margaret nodded slightly, still backed away. "W-what… Why am I here?" She managed to croak out, firm but afraid.

The silence was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Neither Hea nor Areum knew how to answer the woman. _There is no easy way to tell someone they've become a gisaeng,_ Hea thought bitterly of the first time her parents sold her to the house. That seemed like so long ago…

"Well? What is it?" She spat again, "Why am I here?"

The two girls exchanged glances before Areum turned to Margaret and recited the standard code. "By order of the North Korean Empire, you are officially sold into fit being as a gisaeng and shall be inherited to whomever you are required to serve until deemed otherwise by the house of Gwan Dae."

And just like that, Margaret's already teetering world fell apart. The seams of possible and impossible dismembered, the lines of nightmare and reality no longer existent. A gisaeng. A slave, really, was a better term. There had been stories, murmurs, gossip throughout camps of women, both american and korean, taken into these horrid places. But that thought seemed so far away, never something that could happen to _her._ Margaret Ashley Houlihan, major and proud of it. An army brat who'd been serving her country since before she could remember. An independent, strong leader who never let herself be caught off guard… Hawkeye, she remembered suddenly, reality crashing down on her like a thousand pound weight. _Hawkeye, 4077th, friends, family, home, here, Hawkeye, love, Hawkeye, Hawkeye, Hawkeye…_

"Margaret?" Areum asked softly, and before she could get a reply, the older woman keeled over, sick out the window, the meager contents of her stomach emptied. She slumped bonelessly to the floor, head fuzzy and ears ringing. _It can't be true,_ she thought, _it can't be, I won't let it be… It's not… Oh, God._

A soft hand on her shoulder, leading her, guiding her. "Margaret san? Lie back down, we do not have to report to the head mistress until noon. We shall stay with you…" Areum comforted gently, but by now she could see the american was beyond reason, murmuring senselessly in shock.

"Hea," she called to her friend, "fetch her some water."

Hea nodded silently, confusion and concern etched on her face before she disappeared out the corridor to fetch from the well.

"Don't be afraid, Margaret, we friends now, yes?" Areum tried to soothe, holding the older woman's hand comfortingly. Margaret simply stared off into the distance, continuing to rock back and forth, muttering and mumbling. Her arms were trembling, like she was sick with the fever.

Areum knew well how to deal with these sort of things. She lost count of how many women had been thrown into her hands, reduced to blubbering shadows of themselves. Either their parents sold them out of desperateness, their village had been overtaken by the enemy, or, like in this case, they had been picked up by scouting brigades. The tears, the shock, the numbness were not new to her. She remembered her first time as a gisaeng, how scared she had been as well when she was separated from her parents. _I hope she does not fight her first man,_ Areum thought nervously, _it makes all the difference if you simply give them what they desire… If she continues on like this, she won't last long._

"Margaret san?" She tried again, voice gentle and quiet, "No bad will happen to you. Hea and me show you rules, eh? You not die. We help you, we all sisters. You see soon, it not terrible. Must have brave, yes? You look brave."

Margaret suddenly stopped shaking, murmurs ceasing as she turned to Areum, eyes afraid. "I want to live," she whispered, voice barely audible.

Areum looked at her with honest, compassionate eyes. She could tell already that this woman had fire inside her, that she would not bend easily. Of course, they all wanted their freedom. _But some things just aren't meant to be,_ she thought to herself, _we were born women… We cannot run away from our destiny, whatever that may be._ And at that moment, the girl felt something for the woman that was more than just pity. She felt protectiveness, a bond that she hadn't encountered since she met Hea. This lady had a chance of making it out alive, maybe even saving all of them from a fate worse than being a gisaeng. She had potential, she had spirit. _I must not let her fail here,_ Areum vowed to herself, _she is good. This may have been my destiny, but it cannot be hers._

"I promise you will… If you trust me." She said, holding out her hand.


	4. Chapter 4

**So sorry for the late update! Life and all that... Anyways, this chapter is rated M just to be safe- WARNING: CONTAINS MILD AND HINTS OF SEXUAL HARASSMENT, CURSING AND VIOLENCE. I own nothing- btw, I did research on** **gisaeng houses and how women were treated during the Korean war in general to gather my information for this chapter. Enjoy!**

For Margaret Houlihan, being a leader and being a lady were two opposite sides of the spectrum. And everybody who ever encountered her knew she was only concerned with one. She had never been close with her mother growing up, always looking to her father and marveling at his career and braveness. She wanted to be strong, she wanted to be fierce. She had no desire whatsoever to sit politely and make small talk, to cook and clean or wait on a man's every whim. She was the wild Hot Lips Houlihan.

That woman didn't exist anymore.

She trembled with each sip of water she carefully took from the bowl, trying to contain her hysteria. She was captured, locked up in this _disgusting, awful_ place and she had no idea what would be expected of her, let alone how to fulfill it. She wanted so badly to _fight,_ to defy no matter what they forced her to do. But by the looks of it, she could tell this place couldn't afford to waste much time on torture. It was do or die. And as much as she was sure she'd rather die before submission, rather be shot point blank before defiling herself, she was always stopped by the thought of Hawkeye. She wanted to see him again. No, she _had_ to see him again. She had to sort this out, had to talk with him about… whatever it was they had. As rough as Margaret's record with men was, however, she knew that what they felt was something different than Donald or Frank. Something new entirely. She could see it in his eyes, those almost ethereal pale blues starkly contrasting his dark hair, she could see he felt it, too. And her will to return to him was stronger than her pride.

"Feel better, Margaret san?" Areum asked gently when Margaret set down her water, using the last bit to wipe over her face. The coolness felt good.

Margaret couldn't find her voice, so instead she settled for a reluctant nod.

Areum smiled, actually smiled, and the nurse wondered how anyone could do that in a gisaeng house. "Good, water is good." She assured hesitantly, glancing to Hea like she was holding back on something.

"What's going to happen now?" Margaret forced out, "What do they want from us?"

Areum pursed her lips in a thin line and put her hand over Margaret's. "We teach you one day at a time, yes? You see head mistress Seo Hwa soon, we come with you. She explain you most, we teach you after. We help you."

Margaret was about to point out that Areum didn't answer her initial question, that she still wasn't sure what they wanted from her, but then Hea darted back into the room, telling Areum something rapidly in Korean.

Areum turned to Margaret, grasping her hand and helping her to her feet. "We see Seo Hwa now. Come."

Margaret was grateful for the firm hand on her arm, because her steps were already shaky as it was. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and flashbacks of that night came back to her in snippets. She could feel herself running, feel Hawkeye's palm in hers. Hawkeye…

"Margaret san? We here." Areum said softly, tugging at the sleeve of her dress.

Margaret was dragged back to the present, pulled from her haze as she peered around the decorated room. They had led her down a long hallway with many doors leading to rooms just like theirs before finally reaching the largest one, where the woman who held the fate of her life in her hands resided.

The room seemed to swallow her up, loud colors adorning the walls with tapestries and caligraphy portraits. A stone pot with strong smelling incense sat in the corner, near a very expensive looking hickory desk. There were no windows, and in the far left hand side of the room there was a thinner door, mysterious and locked that led to god knows where.

Margaret stared at it- it was unlike anything she'd ever seen before, strange as that sounded. It was barely big enough for one person to get through, and it wasn't the simple bamboo that the others were made of. It was polished cherry wood that glinted in the candlelight, and with wide eyes she noticed the handle was what looked to be a large piece of emerald flecked with gold. In a war torn country as poor as Korea, where more than half the people were starving or dying, it made no sense to her whatsoever how a gisaeng house in the middle of nowhere could get its hands on something so precious. That handle alone could probably replace the 4077th's rotten generator and rusting watertower. Engraved in the center of the door was a detailed dragon, winding it's long tail around lotus flowers an elegant pose. _Whatever's behind there must be something only someone with blood on their hands could buy._

Suddenly, shaking her from her stupor, the door opened. She tried to get a good look at what was behind it, but as soon as it was opened it was closed again, a brisk looking woman walking out.

The Headmistress was a very beautiful woman, and Margaret snarled at the fact that someone so pretty would use their looks for such a hideous occupation. She wore a long, slimming hanbok, as she learned they called the garment around here. It was a light blue silk, and embroidered with golden tendrils that snaked up to her long neck. Her hair was as black as night, and her eyes glinted like two shiny coals. She did not smile, she did not bow. She only looked at Margaret like she was the most vile thing to crawl the earth.

"Sit." She commanded, like she was talking to a dog. _So she does know english,_ Margaret mused.

Areum nervously tugged her down, sitting cross legged on the ground next to Hea.

"As you have already heard, I am Seo Hwa, head mistress." She spoke impeccably, never stuttering once. Anyone could tell this woman was highly educated- she was cool and collected, posture straight, and her accent barely faltered.

Margaret swallowed, keeping her gaze. She refused to show fear in front of this woman- that would betray everything she'd worked so hard for. "Name: Margaret A. Houlihan, serial number 20341987336, major." She recited her title proudly.

A slap across the cheek stole her breath away, knocking her on her back, causing Areum and Hea to gasp. Areum moved to help her, but Seo Hwa held up a hand to stop her.

Pain seared across her skin as Margaret sat back up, breathing shakily. She couldn't decide whether the growing red on her cheek was from the injury itself or from the humiliation creeping up on her. She gazed at the head mistress through wispy strands of disheveled hair.

"I did not ask for your name. You will speak only when spoken to. Before we proceed any further, is that clear?" Seo Hwa snapped, lips pursed in a thin line.

Margaret nodded slowly, anger bubbling up inside her like a dangerous cauldron. _Remember Hawkeye, get back to Hawkeye, you love him, you can't mess this up,_ she repeated over and over again in her mind.

"I never thought Americans attractive, personally," the headmistress drawled, sitting down casually as if she was having a conversation with a friend at a bar, "you all have a certain generic quality about you. Boring, to be sure. Tell me, major, are all you women like that? Are your minds as dull as your appearence?"

Margaret glared at her but did not answer. The silence was deafening enough.

Seo Hwa smiled calmly, annoyingly. "However," she said, "our soldiers tend to think you ladies are simply irresistible, gods know why. They must have a want for something… exotic."

The major shivered slightly, shuddering at the thought of her future. _You can't think like that,_ she scolded herself, and pushed that away into the deepest recesses of her mind. She wanted so badly to retaliate, to shout at this woman that she had no right to desecrate her like this, to scream and break free of this horrid prison. But if she got slapped for talking out of turn, she dared not try anything else, keeping her promise to Hawkeye.

"Areum and Hea will show you our ways. There are 5 rules, however, every gisaeng must live by in this house. Rule number one," she abruptly smacked her hand down on the wooden floor beside Margaret, making her flinch, "you will obey every order given to you by your head mistress or the man you are serving. Our soldiers expect only the best, and that is what we give them."

She leaned in close to Margaret, so close that she could smell her Jasmine scented skin. "Without any hesitation." She bit. The blonde held firm, refusing to shy away in the face of the head mistress.

"Rule number two," another loud smack, this time to the wall against which the nurse rested. Hea and Areum bowed their heads, looking away, but Margaret swore she saw a flash of worry cross their faces. "chores and all housework will be completed daily. I want this house spotless as the day it was built, no less, or you will be forced to clean much worse." Seo Hwa hissed, and to the nurse's horror, a photograph of a woman scrubbing a marred body of an american soldier was thrust in her face.

She had to swallow the bile in her throat, had to desperately scramble to shield the horror from her features. _Strong, you must stay strong._

"Rule number 3," Margaret gasped in pain as she felt a strand or two of her long blonde hair being pulled from her scalp. "a gisaeng must be more than a common prostitute. A gisaeng must be graceful, poised, and obedient. Clumsiness and rash behavior are not tolerated. Hea and Areum will instill some of this in you, if your filthy white blood does not deter them from trying."

Margaret chewed on the inside of her lip, anger and fear and other emotions she didn't know the name of swelling in her chest. How many times before had she and Frank turned away the local villagers asking for help, deeming every native or Chinese a communist and not to be spoken to? She never imagined it could sting so much, to be so hated for a race you were born into. She dazedly realized she'd never in her wildest dreams thought she would be on the other end of the scale.

"Rule number 4," and Margaret struggled to suppress a yelp as Seo Hwa came down hard on her exposed shin with a bamboo stick she seemingly produced out of nowhere, leaving a red welt burning on her flesh. Areum looked away. "you will eat and drink when we command. Anything less than standard health to keep appearance optimum is unacceptable."

There was a long pause, and for a split second the blonde major thought headmistress wasn't going to speak again. Hoped was a better word. But then faster than her mind could comprehend, faster than she thought humanly possible, _faster than she could just get away,_ a brutally vicious hand shot out and in one single swipe tore her dress off, the silk ripping easily under the fingernails and cast away to the floor, leaving her naked and reeling from shock.

She couldn't utter a word, couldn't speak any intelligible language other than choked noises. She was at their mercy; exposed, vulnerable, _ashamed._ Seo Hwa gripped her arm with a force that would surely leave bruises, pulling her to her feet and shoving her against the wall.

"Headmistress, if I may-" Areum started desperately.

"No you may not!" Seo Hwa snapped, glowering at the young girl who promptly sat back down, head bowed.

"Rule number 5," she whispered dangerously, black eyes glinting as they bore into Margaret. It felt like they were not only seeing her body, but seeing her soul, seeing her weaknesses and strengths alike with a cold and calculating gaze. The grip on her wrist was firm, keeping her pinned against the wall as she breathed fast like a hunted animal, heart pounding so loud she was sure Seo Hwa could hear it. "you are to know your place here. You are no more than a lowlife bitch, an American whore sent by your meniacle government to take our people and destroy our way of life. Cattle are above you in every self respecting human's eyes!" She screeched, the loud and hoarse sound piercing Margaret's ears, "Your body and your soul, your very being is no longer your own. Your disgusting, miserable, pathetic life whatever it is worth is at our mercy. At _my_ mercy...You march in with your weapons, major, like you own the world… You're used to leading, are you not?"

Margaret remained silent, though her insides were churning and she felt unwanted tears prick at her eyes. She willed them to stay there, told herself she wasn't afraid. She always was a good liar.

"Well, this time the tables have turned. You're the one being led now. And if you should defy this code, if you should break any of these rules, I will see to it that you and that bastard who ran with you the night you were captured are to be skewered on a stick, YOUR BLOOD SMEARED OVER EVERY DOORWAY IN KOREA! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

She threw the major against the wall, wrist bleeding as she crumpled to the ground. Margaret panted for breath, staring up at her and wondering if this woman, if this _thing_ was even human anymore, if she was so completely subsumed by her hatred that she even classified as a person. She nodded slowly, eyes wavering and legs shaking.

"I have business to attend to." She bit coldly, and spoke to Areum and Hea rapidly in Korean, who bowed politely and nodded, agreeing to whatever it was. And with that, the headmistress left, disappearing behind the door which still captivated the now shivering major. She never doubted her pride in her country, never faltered in her dedication to this war, but Seo Hwa had a force about her, a dark aura that seemed to seep into her very bones and make her believe she really was vile, turn her confidence and pride into blubbering shadows of their former selves. And as Hea and Areum helped her to her feet, whispering words she could not remember, for the first time in forever, Margaret Houlihan was _ashamed_ to be who she was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello! Disclaimer: I own nothing! Reviews are sooooooo loved! Thank you!**

"So you're telling me there's _nothing_ you can do?" Colonel Potter shouted through the phone, gripping the handle tightly.

Hawkeye was drumming his fingers nervously against the desk, and every time a fuzzy reply came through the telephone he would narrow his eyes in a frightening amount of focus. "Come again? Tell me if the connection's bad, Colonel, I can always make it a hell of alot worse!" He snapped, reaching over to yell at the operator on the other side for a third time.

"Hawk, don't get like this, you know how icorps is. If we get in their face they'll never help." BJ's calm voice of reason pointed out, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Hawkeye sighed deeply, running a hand over his face tiredly. He hadn't slept in four days- not since he returned, tired and ragged and dehydrated, practically falling into BJ's arms after the exhausting 20 mile trek through the wilderness. Everyone was surprised he had even survived, and since the news of Margaret's abduction, no one could refrain from whispering nervously. The whole camp was abuzz with the missing major, and nobody had ever seen Pierce so serious for such a long amount of time. He hadn't joked once, hadn't even smiled. He saw no reason to.

"Dammit, connection's lost again." Colonel swore, hanging up the phone.

Klinger typed furiously on the telegram machine, one hand pushing the hat up from his face. "No surprise there, sir. The whole area's down thanks to last night's rain- set our own mines off and now Sparky is on shift 24/7."

BJ sighed and Charles looked like he was contemplating something very intensely. Colonel sat down tiredly in his chair, dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent as he exhaled. "Get some sleep, boys, we'll try again in the morning."

"Sleep?" Hawkeye croaked, "How can I sleep knowing she's out there? Is she hurt? I don't know. Is she safe? I don't know. Hell, is she alive? I don't know, I don't know, I DON'T KNOW! No one knows anything around here! And we're sitting here waiting for someone to do something!" The anger then faded from the captain's voice, and was replaced instead with a heartbreaking anguish. "I left her there… And now, now s-she's all alone." His eyes were clouded with despair, sleep deprived delirium, and tears.

Any of the men in the room wanted to say something to make him feel better, but there was really nothing to say. He was too tired now, anyway, beyond reasoning with. BJ exchanged glances with his CO before slinging his arm around Hawkeye, gently guiding him to his feet and leading him out of the office. "C'mon, Hawk, let's hit the hay for now, alright?" BJ murmured, voice soft and soothing and sympathetic. The tone he only used for his best friend.

Colonel Potter watched his two surgeons disappear to the Swamp from the window, arms folded over his chest.

"Colonel, with all due respect, what do you propose we do to remedy this… situation… until Major Houlihan comes back to quell the shortage of nurses?" Charles asked quietly, fiddling with his stethoscope. He felt strange, not having scolded or reprimanded Pierce once in over 24 hours- the man gave him nothing to admonish, being frighteningly silent and pale, not at all like the rambunctious bunkmate he was used to.

The colonel sighed, a look of dark resignation on his face as he was withdrawing a bottle of Missouri liquor he only used in dire times from his cabinet. He poured himself a glass, resting his arm on the table. "Klinger, put in a telegram for Sydney at the 8063rd to come as soon as he can. There's nothing else we can do besides that."

Klinger nodded solemnly, typing away the request. "Yes, sir. Hey, that liquor any good?" The clerk perked up slightly.

The CO, not in a mood to argue, nodded and poured him a glass. "Want some, Winchester?"

Charles stood up, seemingly shocked at his CO. "Surely you jest, Colonel! 4 days and there is absolutely no way to reach civilization?"

Potter downed his glass and shook his head. "Not this time, Winchester. My hands are tied. Best we can hope for is that the lines are repaired soon enough to patch in a call. Otherwise we'll have to send one of you to Tokyo, and judging by the fine piece of real estate the Chinese have set up on all the roads I'd say that's like askin' for a catfish to jump straight in the skittle."

Charles nodded silently, and an awkward pause of quiet settled over the room. A sort of impending, suffocating anxiety that wouldn't go away until Margaret returned.

The major swallowed, looking to the colonel. "I'll take that drink now, if you don't mind."

"Clamp," BJ muttered, sewing up a small graft on a kid's pericardium. The OR was alive and busy today, daresay packed. Ever since the Chinese and North Korean station had been set up near Inchon, it seemed like every troop in the area had visited at least once. And there was still no sign of Margaret.

"Clamp," Kelleye confirmed, handing BJ the instrument. Every minute or so BJ would cast a glance up at his friend, making sure he didn't look too pale or too tired. It had been a rough 4 days and even rougher nights. The blonde surgeon never imagined that his jokester roommate would burst into random rounds of tears, requiring him to stay up late into the morning with him making sure he didn't drink himself into oblivion, shushing him and reassuring empty words that things would be alright.

 _Something changed while they were out there together,_ BJ kept thinking to himself. As much as Hawkeye would worry if Margaret dissapeared like this, the doctor could tell that while the two were lost and alone something ignited. Very few people had enough of Hawk's heart to break it this badly, to render him so empty. Something had just begun to blossom between the two, whatever it was, and fate had decided to stick out its cruel hand.

"Alright, this kid's good- next!" Hawkeye called, voice raspy and eyes dulled.

A few nurses carried the young man away, and Father Mulcahy and Klinger brought in the next patient, which caught everyone's attention.

"Relax, kid, we're not trying to hurt you!" Klinger kept having to push the soldier down, who was rapidly speaking in Korean and trying to get off the stretcher. "See? I'm technically not even American. I don't know what Lebanese/Korean relations are like, but at least take some comfort in that!"

The soldier breathed heavily, and blood coated his gray jacket. Sewn onto his uniform was a red star and Korean embroidery. His eyes were wild and frantic, as if he was expecting them to come out with a pistol at any moment.

"Please, my son, let us help you!" Father repeated, setting him down on the operating table.

"When'd he get in?" Hawkeye asked numbly, gazing down at the North Korean. Normally he wouldn't have a problem operating on enemy soldiers- in fact, he had gotten substantial amounts of criticism for it. But after what happened, he hadn't come into contact with anymore enemy soldiers. He wasn't sure he was ready to. The uniform… Exactly like the ones the Calvary brigade were wearing. Memories of that awful night flashed before his eyes.

' _Don't just stand there, run! Get out of here!'_

… _Shouts in Korean came louder and closer, gruff and menacing like a monster's roar… Dread built in the pit of his stomach, heart racing and chest pounding. Pulse beating too fast, breath coming quicker. Fight or flight, fight or flight, too many of them, too many of the- Margaret, Margaret fell behind. Save Margaret, hurry up, save her, save Margaret._

' _Shut up, just let me untie-'_

 _Hurry. Untie ropes, ropes too thick, voices and clouds of hot breath coming closer and closer and closer, clinging on to the rocky slope until his fingers bled in rivulets. Don't leave her here, don't leave her here, don't leave your love behind._

' _If you ever cared about me, if you ever loved me at all, then you'll run away right now, Benjamin!'_

 _Benjamin, Benjamin… Who's Benjamin? Oh, right that's me… No… No, Margaret, no… I love you, I do, I can save you-_

 _Horses and ropes and darkness and trees and dust and rocks and Margaret, Margaret was on the ground, Margaret was taken, Margaret was not. With. Him. Margaret was in danger, save Margaret, don't leave your love behind, your only lo-_

' _RUN, Benjamin!'_

 _Something wet stinging at his eyes, his face, something inside him breaking. Something forcing him to obey her, to run away, feet moving without his consent, like some spell had been put on him to physically obey her orders, body betraying his want to stay._

' _DAMN YOU!'_

 _running._

 _running._

 _silence._

"Hawkeye!"

Father Mulcahy's voice dragged him back to the present, and he blinked slowly at his surroundings. Time seemed to blur together, and confusion settled over him as he realized he was no longer in the busy OR, but laying down on his cot in the Swamp. His body ached and he lifted a hand to his head, wincing when he felt a bruise there.

"Thank goodness you've awaken! We were all very concerned."

"Father…? What happened?" He croaked.

"You fainted in the middle of OR- gave us all quite a scare. Don't worry, though, neither you or anyone else was hurt. In fact, your patient is recovering quite nicely in post-op. BJ was here with you for a few hours, but he's checking up on that poor North Korean boy." Father said kindly.

Hawkeye nodded silently, and without a word, forced himself up on shaky legs. He grabbed his white coat and made his way to post-op, feeling obligated to do something for collapsing in the middle of an operation.

"Hawk? What are you doing up? You're supposed to stay in bed." BJ said worriedly as soon as he saw his friend stumble through the doors.

Hawkeye shrugged walking over to BJ and leaning his head on his shoulder. They had always been touchy; there wasn't much room in a small camp like this for personal space, but lately Hawkeye had felt the need to feel, to have something anchoring him, letting him know that this wasn't all a horrible nightmare, as much as he wanted to believe it.

BJ rested his hand on Hawkeye's head, carding fingers through the black hair. "Don't scare us like that, pal." He murmured softly into his forehead, patting him on the back. "As soon as I'm done here we're gonna get you something to eat from Igor, whether the macaroni dead or alive or not."

Hawkeye glanced over to the patient whose chart BJ was reading- it was the North Korean. BJ placed a hand on his shoulder, steadying him. "Don't worry about it, Hawk, he's fine. Just scared is all. He and Klinger were playing a slightly miscommunicated game of blackjack just a minute ago. He was pretty lucky, too. Flesh wound to the thigh, a few sutures on the shoulder. Nothing too bad."

The black haired captain walked over to the patient, who looked up at him with eyes that were… Worried? Scared?

"Hey… Don't be afraid, I normally don't pass out in front of strangers, in fact I'm told I'm very personable." He joked flatly, sighing. This kid was no different than any other soldier, and despite his awful flashbacks, he couldn't deny it when he looked at the small form just barely 18, laying in bed fearful.

The soldier only whispered one thing over and over again, like a pleading for something.

"Hea. Hea."

 **Ooooh... Twist, anyone?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! So sorry for all the late updates- life gets busy :l anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Plz plz plz review! (Also i do not own the show or any of** **the** **characters- I did research on social norms and folk rumors during WWII for inspiration as to what both sides think of each other. I am writing this strictly from an anti-racist supportive standpoint, and rely on historical evidence to make my stories more true to the times as best I can.)**

"Today we will show you how to be host. Men love a beautiful woman who talk well to them." Areum announced as the trio half limped, half walked back to their room. Margaret was still reeling from what happened, her body too sore to put much effort into good posture. Hea supported her on the left, and Areum kept her going on the right.

"Talk? I… I don't know Korean." Margaret muttered, panicking. She hoped she wouldn't be forced to learn the entire language in one night- she just envisioned herself alone on her knees with Seo Hwa, pain burning across her skin whenever she answered wrong.

"Don't have to. A good gisaeng can say much with her eyes. We show you how to act in front of new clients." Areum said, almost proudly. Margaret felt a pang of sympathy for the girl. She had been brainwashed so badly that by now she thought this was something to be _proud_ of. The major always loved being able to hold deep, meaningful conversations with men- with Hawkeye. His words would wash over her like a wave on smooth pebbles, not shallow praise but amazingly raw truth. She knew the clients she'd be facing were here for a totally different reason.

Since that awful meeting in the morning, Margaret had been given a new dress and a damp piece of fabric to cool her red hot welts and bruises. She was still aching all over, still shocked that what had happened _actually happened._ She was too exhausted, too afraid to even dare think of what might come in the near future. She could barely handle what was happening moment by moment.

As Hea and Areum talked, teaching her the ways of conversing with soldiers, Margaret's mind flew away from her body. She dazedly followed their movements, nodded her head when it was appropriate. But inside, she wanted nothing more than to scream as loud as she could, to break something or shatter something like that awful woman had shattered her. She was horrified that everything she was, everything she stood for was being viciously ripped apart. She was going to… serve… The same people who gave the 4077th a reason to exist. She was going to wait on and bow down to the monsters who killed not only young american boys, the american spirit. And her father… What would he think? _Daddy's little girl, a traitor,_ she thought bitterly. She felt dirty. Only this time, no amount of scrubbing or washing or drinking could get rid of what they'd done to her. They'd marked her. They'd already destroyed a piece of her and she hadn't even seen her first act of terror yet! Her biggest fear since she came to Korea was rape. She remembered thinking to herself, long ago, that she just might be ok if she met her end serving her country. But this… This was the ultimate awfulness. And she would rather run through a minefield than let them do this to her.

 _Oh, Hawkeye,_ she thought wearily, desperately, _why'd it have to be like this? Why'd we have to fall in love here, now? Why'd I have to give my heart to someone I'll end up never seeing again…?_ But then somewhere in the echos of her mind, she heard that soft, joking, baritone voice calling out to her, that warm reassurance he possessed catching her attention.

 _I'm coming for you, Margaret, we're all looking. You can't give up now… I told you I loved you. Now you need to give yourself the chance to tell me._ The words seemed so real in her head; she could still see his piercing blue eyes in the darkness of the hut, still feel his heartbeat. She'd never felt or had anything like this before. And she wouldn't let anything take it away from her. No matter what the costs.

"You will look beautiful when we go to dinner tonight," Areum's voice dragged her from her sweet mirage of Hawkeye, bringing her back to the present.

Margaret startled, blinking. "Dinner?" She asked.

"Yes," Areum said, folding her juke mat and sweeping the dusty wooden floor with a broom, "general Kyang Sa. Very accomplished. Very important. You make good impression, headmistress be happy."

Margaret swallowed, shaking her head with wide eyes. "Oh, no… A general? A… oh, no, I can't possibly… He won't be… We won't…" The awful words couldn't leave her lips.

Areum seemed confused for a moment before her eyes lit up in understanding and she shook her head. "No, no. He will not be your first man. Though you'd be very lucky if he was. Many say he is experienced, no strange demands like some."

Margaret gaped, clutching at her dress. "He won't touch _you,_ will he?"

Areum sighed, almost dreamily, and spoke to Hea, who darted out of the room to retrieve something. "No… But I wish he would. He is very handsome, strong and tall. It would be an honor to serve someone such as him."

The blonde woman looked horrified, trembling slightly. "An honor… An honor? H-how can you say that? He _rapes_ you, don't you understand? Not to mention that he kills my people! How can you be _honored_ to sleep with a murderer?" She cried, breathing heavily.

Areum looked at her somberly, eyes filled with unreadable emotion. She sighed, peering back at the pile of dust she'd collected with her broom. "This is war, Margaret San. Murderers sleep on both sides."

Margaret opened her mouth to object and say that was wrong, but closed it when she found she could not answer why. She _knew_ american G.I.s who'd raped Korean woman, north or south, leaving them poor, confused, and with a child society would not accept. She _knew_ corrupt commanders who sent their men out to kill for the thrill of it, for a blazing rush of glory. And it was then that she came to yet another sombering realization. The American army didn't care if these monsters went into combat. All that mattered was winning. Somewhere along the line, they'd lost sight that Areum was right. Both sides had monsters. And they were equally hideous.

She blushed suddenly, feeling out of place and embarrassed for being corrected by a 19 year old. She was a major, a leader. She was supposed to know right from wrong. But even though it took more than her to say which side was which, she knew that what these girls were doing, were being _forced_ to do, was wrong. No matter what, life wasn't supposed to be this way. Not for anyone. "You shouldn't have to do this, you know," Margaret said softly, "no one should."

Areum paused, stopping her sweeping. She looked up at the major with eyes that shone in fear, pain, and sadness. A silent agreement. But before any other words could be exchanged, Hea rushed back into the room with her arms full of clay vases and fabric, brushes and beads.

The haunted look on Areum's face faded, and she smiled excitedly at what her friend had brought. Hea spoke to Margaret rapidly, almost determinedly. "She says we are going to make you very beautiful for tonight, yes?" Areum translated, nodding eagerly.

Margaret opened her mouth to protest, to say that she'd rather look as unappealing as possible for the communist general. But instead, she was yanked to her feet by Areum and led once more down the long, winding hallway. Large northern star flags hung on the walls, like giant red eyes watching all who moved through the corridor. They passed many other women, some her age but mostly young girls.

And then, Margaret was walking outside of the windowless house for the first time.

A large wooden door at the opposite end of the hallway opened into a spacious courtyard, walled with solid concrete topped in barbed wide. It looked so cold and contrasting next to the blossoming vines that had begun to climb up them. Life in the midst of death.

The place was bustling with people, men tending to the bushes and gardens that lay in plots on either side of the stone pathway, and in the center, more women, some with babies on their backs, retrieved water from a large pump well. A huge wooden bucket sat beside it, and many Korean women were rushing around it, as if they were preparing for something. They looked up once they saw Areum and Hea.

"What are you doing to me?" Margaret asked apprehensively, starting to back away.

Areum opened her mouth to reply, but quicker than any words could be uttered, a mischievous look found its way onto Hea's lips and before Margaret could grasp what was going on, other girls and Hea were stripping her of her dress, folding it neatly beside the wooden bucket, which she now saw was filled with water. A small yelp escaped her lips, and without another glance she was tossed like a frisbee into the freezing cold bath.

"Hea! That was mean!" Areum scolded her friend as they watched the american gasp for breath, shivering at the temperature shock.

"What? I've done that with you a few times. You said it was funny!" Hea protested, hands on her hips.

"This is different, she… Aigoo, we don't have time for your foolishness. Let's get her cleaned up." The girl sighed, and a few of their friends helped them wash the major.

"It's ok, is just soap, you see?" She assured Margaret, rubbing her shoulders comfortingly as they ran the bubbly cloth over the pale, shocked body.

"I know she is older than us, but I must say, she is rather beautiful." Said Nari, a girl famed around the house of Gwan Dae for her skills in traditional dance.

"How are you going to dress her, Areum?" Chin Sun, or, 'the baby' as she was referred to for her young age, asked, "These features… How will you apply powder and paint to such wide eyes and lips? And her hair- what will you do about that?"

Hea sighed, pouring a bottle of cherry oil into Margaret's blonde locks, "We will have to think of something. You know how Kyang Sa is… Even the headmistress stays on his good side. Anything less than perfection and he is displeased."

"Have you asked her what it's like yet?" Nari questioned, scrubbing roughly at Margaret's arms.

Areum raised an eyebrow, absently reassuring Margaret that they were almost done and would try to be more gentle. "Asked her what?" She murmured, confused.

Nari rolled her eyes, as if it was obvious. "You know- about life on the other side. Perhaps a good place to start is; 'why does your people send women into the war if not as spies?"

Hea scoffed, hands on her hips like she knew so much better than any of them. "It's not a _real_ job, Nari. There's no such thing as women soldiers. She was a nurse, I think… At one of their strange villages where they took Duk Sang."

"Is it true what they say?" Chin Sun asked nervously, raising her voice to be heard over Margaret's protests as they helped her out of the tub and wrapped her in dry towels, "Do they really eat Korean babies for dinner? My papa told me to run if I ever saw one 'cause they'll take me, cook me, and tear me up with their pointy teeth!"

"I heard they tell their soldiers to set fire to villages just to scare us."

"I heard they take the metal off of dead Koreans and recycle it to make more bullets!"

"I heard-"

"None of that is true." Areum bit out firmly, cutting through the gossip and murmuring voices of the group. "It's all nonsense. Her teeth are not pointy, and I don't think there is any country who eats their children. Use what little brains you have and help get her ready so that she may have a chance here. If she doesn't do well tonight, she'll only have three more tries before Seo Hwa's patience wears thin and she takes the gun to her."

Hea cast a glance over at her friend, surprised at her firmness. Normally Areum was the soft one, the kind and caring one who simply soothed and consoled new recruits. She had never spoken up for the americans before… It was concerning. What made Margaret so different?

"I hope for her sake all goes well," Nari mentioned casually, "she's the talk of all the gisaeng houses from here to Busan. No one's ever had a wild american woman before. I bet the wait list for her is already growing."

Areum swallowed, knowing the older girl was right. Soldiers had been gossiping since her arrival, and word travelled fast that the house of Gwan Dae was going to make a beautiful american woman their prized gem.

"What's going on? What's going to happen?" Margaret kept clamoring as she was led back to their room, "I'm not… I'm not going to have to do anything tonight, am I?"

Areum shook her head, sitting cross legged on the juke mat as she offered Margaret a comforting smile. "No, Margaret san. Tonight you just sit with us and Kyang Sa and eat dinner. That's it."

A visible wave of relief crossed the major's face and she sighed, twiddling with her thumbs, feeling stupid. "Oh… That doesn't sound particularly awful."

"Of course not. But we make you pretty for Kyang Sa, you know… How say it in english? Make-up?" Areum wondered, before she and Hea set out the eyeliner and lipstick, powder and mascara and sculpting clay, prepared to crown the exotic princess.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello! So sorry for the late update- Life gets really busy. Please no flames! This is a very intense and dark chapter- I hold nothing back when it comes to** **abhorrent sexism and racism- I mean no offense to either Americans or Koreans! I try to portray the time and setting as accurately as possible. WARNING: EXTREME SEXISM, RACISM, SUGGESTIONS OF RAPE**

"What is all this?" Margaret asked as Areum swirled the red powder and water mixture in the clay jar.

"It is Mihwa, Margaret-san. Ancient Korean practice for gisaengs, the art of making beauty. It shouldn't be too hard for you, though, you already pretty." Areum made an attempt to make the woman feel better, offering a smile as she withdrew a brush and dipped it in the jar.

"Oh… thank you." Margaret replied absently, looking deep in thought. Areum knew what she was thinking about, what she was dreading.

"Hold still, now," she said solemnly, and gently painted the red pigment over Margaret's peach colored lips.

"I can't believe headmistress is getting her best Mihwa set out for _this."_ Hea said indignantly, readying the mascara in a separate pallet.

Areum glared at her friend, worry growing within her. Why was Hea acting so strange lately? It wasn't her character, inquisitive, intelligent Hea. This was bitterness, this was resentment. Something none of them could afford to get lost in.

" _Ileon,_ someone is jealous!" Nari smirked as she gathered Margaret's long locks in a braided bun, reaching for a flower pin to hold it in place.

Hea crossed her arms, lip sticking out at Nari. "No, I'm not! I just don't see why she goes to so much trouble for one American captive. It doesn't make any sense."

"Ouch! Could you tug any harder?" Margaret suddenly snapped as Nari pulled at her hair, the pain throbbing in her already aggravated skull.

"My apologies, Margaret-san," Areum soothed sympathetically, and translated to Nari, who immediately slowed the combing and brushing to a gentler pace.

"It makes perfect sense," Chin Sun protested, smoothing the wrinkles out of Margaret's seafoam green colored silk hanbok, "she is not just an American captive, she is a symbol of victory. Soon, she will be the most famous gisaeng in all of Korea."

By the time the women were done fussing over her, Margaret couldn't even recognize herself. They had handed her the mirror, and the woman staring back at her was not at all Hot Lips Houlihan.

This woman had a face the color of soft cream colored rose petals, powdered all over with a talc mixture she could not name. Her lips were painted artfully in a deep blood red, curving flawlessly at the corners. Her eyelashes had also been glazed over in a coal colored liquid, accentuating her sea glass colored irises. Her hair had been done up in a complicated mix of braids and a bun, tied together with a teal ribbon. She was wearing an ornate blue hanbok that puffed out around her, almost like a ballgown. A sheer blue shawl was draped around her silk sleeves and her wrists were left bare, hands folded in her lap.

"Oh! Margaret San, you look beautiful!" Areum gushed, sighing dramatically. Hea nodded in approval, and the rest of the group rambled off Korean that she assumed was either jealousy or admiration.

By all standards, she looked stunning, dressed to the nines. But inside she felt as though she was being prepared for her funeral, sentenced to a life she didn't even consider living. She had come to realize in her short time at the house what it was that set her apart from the others. She still remembered. She still understood that there was more outside those wretched gates, that life was not supposed to be this way. She still remembered what it truly meant to be free.

Looking around the room at the other prostitutes, Margaret could tell they had long lost hope of escaping from this prison, of having a life of their own. They were so far away, minds so clouded that she doubted they even disagreed with the idea of being a gisaeng anymore. Seo Hwa had convinced them that this was all they were good for, made them believe it until they were empty shells of their former selves.

 _Not for me,_ Margaret thought determinedly, _I can't let them do this… Not if it means I surrender my life. I can't let myself listen to a word they have to say- just go to dinner tonight, don't get in any trouble, and you'll get out of this… Hawkeye's looking for you, they all are. You'll get out of this…_

Margaret was so busy trying to save herself from being sucked into this void that she barely had time to be nervous. She hadn't even managed to fully wrap her mind around the fact that tonight, she'd be having dinner with a commander who gave the 4077th business.

"Remember what we taught you, you be fine," Areum said, as if reading her mind, "we go now."

Margaret nodded, chin up as she tried to maintain her dignity.

The dining room was big. Bigger, Margaret guessed, than any other room because it served two purposes. On the left, dancers in colorful costumes swayed to the rhythmic beat of traditional Korean music as men leered at them. On the right, there were three low standing tables, each occupied with gisaengs entertaining their 'clients'. Margaret had to swallow the bile rising in her mouth as she spotted the table where she'd be sitting.

Areum and Hea were accompanying her, but after they left she'd be all alone. She wanted desperately to call them back, to beg them for mercy, but before she knew it, she was standing before Seo Hwa and Kyang Sa.

Another conversation was carried out in the language she could not understand, and then Areum and Hea bowed politely before leaving. Remembering their first tip, Margaret bowed herself, trying to keep from shaking.

"Ah, so this is the famous woman I have been hearing all about!" The general exclaimed in perfect english, highly educated like Seo Hwa. "It truly is a pleasure to meet you, miss…?"

Margaret opened her mouth to speak, still bowed and not looking up, when the headmistress spoke up for her. "This is Su-Min, our newest member."

The blonde nurse struggled to keep from shaking, sitting slowly on the decorative pillow set out for her. Su-Min? Is that supposed to be me? She quickly dismissed the thought, though, vowing to ask Areum later why she couldn't even keep her name. She bowed once more before finally possessing enough audacity to look up at the general.

She was met with a striking gaze. The man had a piercing gaze, eyes that were obviously trained to be a top sniper. He was dressed in a crisp grey pressed uniform, medals and badges pinned on the sleeves. He smiled at her, a mouth full of perfect white teeth, striking a disturbingly accurate resemblance of a hungry tiger intent on prey.

"Su-Min… Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Tell me, do you happen to speak any Korean?" He mused, leaning towards her with his elbows on the table.

Margaret prayed that he couldn't hear how loud her heart was beating, throbbing in her chest as she fought against shaking with fear. She wanted to speak up, wanted to _fight_ this because this wasn't her, this was a degradation. She was here, having dinner with a murderer. Who knows how many of his victims now bare Hawkeye's sutures? She wanted to scream and shout at him, call him out for the pig he really was, but she couldn't. Her voice was just barely above a whisper as she answered, "No, sir."

"Well, then you wouldn't know that Su-Min means 'radiant flower', a… truly appropriate description in this case." He murmured, voice low as he stared at her, coal colored eyes drinking in her appearance like a lion on a deer.

"So kind of you, general, to take time out of your busy schedule to come and visit this… thing," Seo Hwa smiled venomously at Margaret, who sat frozen in humiliation and fear. "Please, indulge us on your bravery as of late. I hear our soldiers have claimed another victory?" The question seemed so precisely directed at the major that one could almost see the laser focus beamed her way. The blonde nurse's eyes widened ever so slightly, and her cheeks grew a rosy shade of red.

"Of course!" He laughed heartily, as if they were talking about the weather. "So easy these days… Just yesterday we won back Ongjin. Celebrating was the easy part- their bones are so much thinner than ours, throw them on a mine and they'll come back down like confetti!"

Seo Hwa and him were chuckling, exchanging short words in Korean, and Margaret began to worry that her stomach wasn't strong enough for this. She fought down the rising bile in her throat, battled back the stinging tears in her eyes. She couldn't afford to let them get to her. _He's lying,_ she repeated in her mind, _he's just trying to scare you, none of that is true… He's lying… Only lying._

"Thing! General Kyang Sa has achieved an incredible accomplishment. Congratulate him." The headmistress's sharp tongue rattled her from her thoughts, and her insides rolled. She now realized this entire dinner was the first step into this hell, her first descent into submission.

"... Congratulations, sir." She whispered.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello all! I am so sorry for the unexpected hiatus- life just took over and I couldn't find much time to get to the computer. Please know I have not given up on this story and the next update should come much sooner. Thank you for your Reviews, they encourage me to keep writing and are so valuable to me! I own nothing- enjoy!**

"Colonel, If this goes on any longer, I'm gonna have to tie him down!" BJ exclaimed, trying to stop the North Korean boy from pulling at his bandages and IVs.

Colonel Potter sighed, bags under his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. It seemed like nothing had come easy since Margaret was captured- Hawkeye was practically a walking zombie, and BJ was worried sick over him. Even Charles Winchester, the all-proud Bostonian piece of culture, had been somberly silent since her disappearance. The nurses, despite Margaret's constant strict ordering of them, missed their commander more than they ever thought they would, and often had a harder time keeping it together. It was like the camp itself had a mind of its own, and without the constant structure that was Margaret Houlihan, it willingly began to fall apart.

"Alright, just keep him at bay until I get a translator over here to sort everything out with him." Colonel said resignedly, turning to go back to his office and ring Sister Clarence, as he often did when they needed to smooth out the bumps in communication, when the patient's eyes widened and he stopped fighting. He sat up straight, gaze fixed intently.

"Was it something I said?" Klinger murmured, and everyone was shocked at the sudden compliance. It was only after the clerk's comment that BJ followed the soldier's gaze and nearly dropped the syringe at what he saw. A picture of Margaret smiling in uniform rested against the postop wall, little flowers lay strewn around it. They had been popping up in various places around the camp since her disappearance, as the nurses thought it was a nice way to honor her and keep her in everyone's thoughts. Hawkeye hated them, thinking they looked like burial wreaths, and avoided looking at them at all costs.

The soldier's gaze glimmered with a light of… recognition? He pointed to the picture frantically and started repeating over and over again; "Geunyeo! Naneun geunyeoleul algoissda!"

BJ's jaw dropped and he looked to Colonel. They were both thinking the exact same thing: He knows where Margaret is.

Sister Mary Clarence arrived to the unit as soon as she could, driving from the orphanage at warp speed when the colonel barked out that it was urgent over the phone. She was met with a swarm of people, doctors and nurses, each talking over the other to explain what was happening. It was a loud cacophony of chattering, but it all ceased when Colonel Potter blew a strict army whistle. The crowd parted like the red sea, and the tired CO smiled weakly at the sight of her.

"Apologies for the eagerness, sister, but we're in need of a translator." He said.

Sister Mary smiled back and nodded gently. "It's no trouble at all. Anything for my favorite unit- I'm happy to help, colonel."

The man visibly relaxed and he beckoned her to follow him, pushing through the doors of post op where Hawkeye, BJ, and Charles sat the foot of the Korean boy's bed.

"For the last time, was she hurt?" Hawkeye exclaimed to him, slowly and loudly as if willing him to understand english. His hair was mussed and his eyes were dark from lack of sleep- there was a strip of gauze wrapped around the palm of his hand where he cut himself on the shower handle trying to run out when he heard that there was possible information on Margaret.

"You can cut the grammar lesson, Pierce. Sister here is willing to translate." Colonel interjected, allowing the woman to tell the patient who she was as he sat beside him on the bed.

"I've been at this for the past four hours! Get him to tell us-"

"Sister, can you please ask this boy how he knows the woman in that picture?" Colonel cut off Hawkeye's rant, shooting him a look that warned him to stop the outbursts. Hawkeye sat nervously against BJ, who had literally been holding him up the whole time he'd been out of bed.

Sister nodded, turning to the Korean boy and asking him the question. The patient exchanged a long sentences of fast paced words, and it seemed like an eternity before the nun turned back to the group and spoke.

"He says his sister was in charge of training her when she arrived at Gwan Dae two weeks ago." She said.

Hawkeye's face paled. "Training her? What, as in combat? What does he mean, 'training' her?" He exclaimed. BJ put a steadying palm on his friend's shoulder and Charles frowned in thought.

"Gwan Dae… I've heard that name before, Sister, ask him who that is." Charles murmured.

The nun translated, but this time the patient did not reply for a long while. Instead, he wet his lips and threw his shoulders back, as if trying to reclaim a bit of dignity before he spoke. None of them liked the look of it, and Sister just seemed concerned. The longer he spoke, the thicker the tension grew.

She turned to them before saying, "He says he will only tell you if you can promise him that he won't be put in American prison. He wants protection from the North Korean army as well, because if he is found he will be hanged for leaving his post. He also wants you to release him as soon as possible."

"We'll do it!" Hawkeye blurted out before anyone could get a word in.

The colonel folded his arms and looked and breathed a heavy sigh. "Now, hold your horses, son, how can we be sure he's not lying to us? If we give him our word, you can bet your lucky socks that he'll be outta dodge before sunup and we'll be have gotten nowhere fast."

"Alright, we'll tie him to the bed with a bowl of food and water, could we tell him then?" Hawkeye snapped, eyes narrowed.

"Hold on, Hawk,-" BJ started.

"I've been holding on for two weeks now! I'll be damned if the only thing standing between Margaret and I is some stupid army protocol!" Hawkeye cut off, eyes wild.

They all exchanged looks, and the silence was thick enough to be cut with a knife. Hawkeye sighed, eyes sobering and posture softening. "Margaret's out there because of me. She's in trouble, and if there's any chance we'll be willing to take, you know it has to be this one."

Colonel's eyes grew watery and Charles bowed his head somberly. BJ just rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. The CO finally nodded to the sister before adding, "Ask him if there's any way he can prove it to us, but… Tell him we can comply."

The conversation that followed forever changed the lives of everyone in that room. Sister Mary Clarence listened with horror and sadness as the boy told her of him and his sister's life under the growing empire, watched the relief claim his features after hearing he would not be sent to a POW camp, and with a raw heartbreak listened of the terrible things the captured women were sentenced to. It brought to her mind the biblical story of Job, and she wondered if God was testing their faith like this for a reason. She bit her lip, looking to the three men who were eagerly awaiting the translation. She turned to the Korean boy, whose name was Kai, and asked if he had a way to prove what he was saying was true. In response, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of dog tags.

"T-those… Those are her dogtags. Beej, those are Margaret's dogtags, why does he have her dogtags?" Hawkeye stammered, dread beginning to claim his insides once more.

Sister Mary Clarence knew what she had to do; it was one of the hardest things she was ever faced with. They never prepared her for things like this at the convent. When she was a novice and the war began, she knew it was her calling to help. But with the call came awful news no one should ever have to break. She knew that once these women were taken, there was little to no chance that they'd ever be found again.

"With all due respect, sister, please don't keep us waiting." Charles pushed, gently but firmly.

She looked to the four pairs of eager, worried eyes, hoping for something, anything, and if it was possible, her heart broke even further. "Gwan Dae is a high up chief commander in the North Korean military…"

"That's where I've heard it." Charles muttered to himself, face dismal.

"So she's with him, right? This Gwan Dae, where can we find him?" Hawkeye clammered, barely containing his panic.

Sister Mary swallowed and took a deep breath before saying, "Gwan Dae is also the largest human trafficking house in the Northern province of Korea… His sister works there, and must be assigned to train your missing major. When he said goodbye to his sister, he saw Major Houlihan there as a trainee... I'm so sorry."

The colonel's face lost all color, Charles's knuckles turned white, and BJ felt his heart sink. Poor Margaret, of all people… He turned to his friend with worry, waiting to see how he'd react. Hawkeye's lips twitched just a millimeter, so small of an outburst that only someone like BJ, someone who knew the man well enough, would pick up on it. His eyes were strangely cold and his skin was ashen. "Well, good! We know where she is, now all we have to do is go get her. C'mon, colonel, help me jump start the jeep." He said, voice eerily monotonous.

"Pierce…" The colonel began.

"I SAID HELP ME START THE GODDAMN JEEP!" Hawkeye roared, voice shaking the ground as he leapt up like a wild animal and shoved a nearby cot over, metal clanging against empty IV bottles shattering.

Sister Mary Clarence yelped and backed up a bit, as did Kai who watched nervously from his bed.

"Hawkeye, stop it!" BJ cried as Hawkeye continued to thrash and scream. And there it was. The breakdown he'd been holding in since the incident. The pressure cooker just waiting to explode. He kicked and punched weakly as the three tried to subdue him, colonel grabbing his arms, BJ connecting his hands across his chest and Charles gripping his shirt.

"That's enough! Stand down, Pierce." Colonel exclaimed as Hawkeye's screams turned to yells, and his yells to sobs. The surgeon collapsed against BJ, crying his eyes out as he had an honest-to-god breakdown in post-op. BJ stared down, horrified, at the sight of his best friend, his _brother_ in such a state. In all the time BJ had known Hawkeye, nothing had ever shook him so deeply. The blonde doctor's heart raced and with a deep, overwhelming wave of sadness, he realized that god forbid, Margaret might not be the only casualty they would be dealing with from this whole affair.

"We've had a long day," BJ said over his friend's crying, his own voice shaky, "I think I'm gonna take him back to the swamp."

The colonel had to momentarily gather his wits before choking out, "Go on, son."

Everyone in post-op stared with wide eyes as the chief surgeon was practically carried out of the room by his best friend. Hawkeye had his face hidden in BJ's shirt, arms loosely wrapped around his neck, knobby knees and pale legs dangling by BJ's side as he was taken back to their tent. Sister Mary Clarence shook her head in sadness and crossed herself, whilst Charles' face remained a disturbingly sheet-white color. Kai watched it all with unreadable emotions, not quite knowing what to think. In a way, he was shocked- he never thought that the enemy was capable of such empathy. Americans were depicted as cold-blooded monsters in the village, and every soldier was trained to see only ruthlessness in their eyes. But this man, these strange people he was with, were strangely… human.

Colonel Potter quietly thanked Sister Mary Clarence for her help and gave her the ok to go. Charles tried to talk him into a drink before calling up icorps, but the old warhorse wasn't in any mood. He sulked into his office, practically collapsing into his desk chair. In all his years in this man's army, he'd never thought this sort of thing would happen to him or anyone he knew, let alone someone so daughter-like to him as Margaret.

"Oh, Mildred," he sighed to the picture of his wife on his desk, "if she goes, I don't know what'll happen." _That was a lie,_ he thought, _I know exactly what will happen. Hawkeye will be devastated beyond repair._


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello everyone! Sorry about the late update. I have once again fallen into the pit that is writer's block! Any ideas to help me in regards to where this story is going is greatly appreciated! Just write your thoughts in the review box below and you could be responsible for the next chapter! (Disclaimer: I do not own MASH or any of it's lovely radiance)**

Margaret had never felt as vile in her entire life as she did now. Her body ached from retching as she leaned over in her room, emptying the contents of her stomach (which weren't much) into a rusty bucket that Hea had provided her with.

She had never experienced such an awful conversation before. The general had continued to brag about his victory, describing sick details of blood and gore, the guts of _her people_ being strewn about and paraded on sticks like the fourth of July. She knew that he could very well be lying just to scare her like the monster he was, but part of her wondered why he would lie in the first place. If he didn't make any of that up, then… _No,_ she thought, trying to snap herself out of this, _he was lying. You will not allow yourself to be scared off by that pig's twisted imagination. You are a major in the U.S. army. Act like it._

"Margaret san? You ok?" Areum asked gently, breaking Margaret from her racing mind.

She nodded, wiping her mouth shakily and pushing the bucket aside. Her makeup was probably smeared all over her face now, but she honestly couldn't care less. "I'm fine…" She trailed off, "Just tired is all."

Areum nodded sympathetically, patting her shoulder. "I understand. Busy day, long for all of us. You rest now, eh? Tomorrow be better."

Margaret didn't know what happened- one moment she was doing a good job of being in control, holding it together. The next, she was sobbing, tears flowing freely down her face. She thought of Hawkeye and how much she missed that smile, thought of the 4077th and all the people she'd come to love as family, and the wave of homesickness knocked her breath away. The realization that she may never see them again was too much to bear. This whole situation was too much to bear.

"How can you live like this?" Margaret gasped through her tears, looking at Areum, "You're just a girl. You're only 18, when I was your age, I was out with my boyfriend getting drunk and partying. I was studying to become a nurse, I was… This isn't right, this isn't fair. You're just a little girl. All of you… you're just kids."

Areum grabbed the distraught woman's hand, holding it tightly and breathing deeply. Something that the major said struck a chord within her, and distant memories of her own childhood came rushing by in fractured visions. Before she was a gisaeng… That seemed like so long ago. She could barely remember what it was like before Gwan Dae. Her childhood had ended when her parents sold her for two oxen to the man on the side of the road, promising a good future for her. There were loud voices of protest, tears, and then she was brought to the house to train for her position. She never looked back, never wondered why or how life came to be like this for her. It just was. But Margaret had stirred something faraway yet alive within her- something she tried to forget but could never quite get rid of. The knowledge. Knowing that there was more to life than this. She'd forced her to remember how twisted this was, how wrong and vile the things she was made to do on a daily basis were.

"Do you miss him?" Areum blurted it out before she could stop herself. She was trying desperately to keep herself from spiraling down the path of despair at her life, and in doing so another thought popped into her restless mind. The man who was found with Margaret before she was taken… He had run away.

Margaret stopped sobbing for a moment, turning her tear stained face to look at the girl. The salty droplets had made tracks down her face where the white powder had washed away, revealing her true skin color. She paused, swallowing before nodding. "Yes," she whispered, "god help me, I do."

Areum moved to comfort her, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as they sat crouched together in the cramped room. Hea watched awkwardly from the side, trying to decipher what was going on.

"Was he your husband?" Areum asked again.

Margaret smiled brokenly, looking down at her silk sleeves. "No. But I was in love with him. Maybe someday we'll get married… if I ever see him again."

Areum saw the hopelessness on her face, the grief of loss, knowing that in reality she most likely would never see the man again. None of the gisaengs ever returned to their old lives. It was considered disgraceful to return to the outside world after having served as a concubine, and so they were often married or sold off permanently when they became too old to appeal to men anymore… And that was if they were lucky. Areum shuddered at the thought of the alternative, remembering the day Hea had witnessed the culling of 200 gisaengs who had reached the 'undesirable age'. If they could not find a workplace or man for you to marry, you were wasted space. And in the midst of a war, nothing could afford to be wasted.

"Margaret San," Areum began softly, "I know this is wrong. But there is nothing we can do. The sooner you accept, the easier it gets. I promise. After your first appointment next week, you will feel much better-"

"Appointment?" Margaret interrupted, jerking her head up to look at Areum square in the eye. "What appointment?"

The young girl felt her heart break for the woman, but never looked away. She simply held her gaze. The look in her eyes said everything Margaret needed to know.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no… I can't. I won't!" The major exclaimed in horror, voice raising dangerously as she backed up towards the wall, away from Areum.

Fearing that the headmistress would hear, Areum frantically tried to calm her down. _This is all my fault, I should have waited to tell her! Seo Hwa will be furious with me!_

"Don't touch me! I have to get out of here, there's no way I'm going to let some monster _rape_ me! There has to be an escape, there has to be, here, help me search for loose floor boards," she commanded, and began feeling around the wooden floor hysterically.

"Margaret San, please," Areum tried, reaching to still her hands.

"Shut up and help me! Don't you want out of here? Now, come on!" She shook the hands off violently and kept desperately trying to pry up a board, a window, anything to escape.

"Margaret, there is no point, we-"

"Maybe there's a loose hinge on the window, here, I think I can get it!"

"But we really-"

"Shut up and help me!"

"THERE IS _NO WAY_ OUT!" Areum shouted, voice shaking the ground. Oh, god, where had that come from? She lifted a shaky hand to cover her mouth, hoping that everyone was asleep and that no one had heard. She looked to see Margaret, who had stopped what she was doing and was now staring at her in disbelief. She watched the emotions swirling about the sapphire eyes- there were so many, it was dizzying! Anger, fear, resentment, sadness, disparity, and finally… resignation. The young girl could almost hear the shattering crack that broke the hardened layer of the major's pride, the brave front crumbling down into a thousand tiny pieces.

Margaret sunk to her knees, eyes wide in realization. Her breathing was heavy, her makeup making her face look even more pale. Her blonde hair hung in wisps about her cheeks, and she pulled her legs up to her chest in agony.

"I'm sorry I yelled, Margaret San." Areum said quietly, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.

The woman shook her head slowly. "N-no… No, you're right. My entire life I was raised thinking that if you work hard enough, you could change things. Now I see… I've been wasting my time. This whole war, this whole army, this whole country. Nothing's changed. Nothing will ever change. And I was a fool to think I could do something about it." She said brokenly, and with that curled up on the floor and went to sleep.

Areum could practically see the bits of broken spirit floating around the room like ghosts, and a fire that once was there left Margaret's eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello! Sorry for the short chapter- new one is coming soon! Thanks for your reviews!**

"She cannot keep on like this. Her first man will be here sooner than later, and when he comes she must be ready." Hea said determinedly. The entire group of girls sat together in a circle, crammed into the tiny room that Areum and Hea shared. They had been passing messages to each other secretly all throughout the day, planning to discuss the fallen major when Seo Hwa was not around to hear. It was a quarter to two in the morning, and their faces were somber against the candlelight.

"You are right," Nari chimed in, "she will not survive long if we don't do something."

"Just give her some space… She is still adjusting-" Areum tried weakly, hoping to buy her friend just a little time before the inevitable would come crashing down on her.

"Areum, why do you speak nonsense? We all know that her time for grieving ran out long ago. The only reason she has not been thrown through the door is because no man would want to fuck a weeping widow. What's gotten into you lately, anyhow? You seem more worried about her than you should be." Gayoon, one of the older members said with concern written plainly on her face.

Areum bit her lip nervously, looking around at the eager faces staring back at her. It was true; everyone noticed her change in attitude towards Margaret. She spent more time with the woman than anyone else. Sighing in defeat, she knew she had to tell her friends the truth. "I… I do not think Margaret San understands what being a gisaeng means."

Hye-ja, a girl just a few years older than Nari, scoffed. "What are you saying?"

Areum put her head in her hands, trying to rid herself of the growing headache she felt. "The other night, she was… Delusional. She kept talking about escaping."

A chorus of gasps rang throughout the room, and Hea's hand flew to her mouth. "What?! Areum, surely you quelled this nonsense of hers before it got a chance to grow!"

"I tried!" Areum protested, "I told her that it was impossible, but she didn't seem to acknowledge it. She has been very quiet and somber since… I fear that she may break soon."

Hea folded her arms petulantly and snorted. "At least then she'd be easier to deal with." She murmured.

Areum's eyes narrowed in fury. She had just about had enough with her friend's self-entitled attitude lately, and her animosity towards Margaret only fueled her rage. However, before she could get a word in, Chin-Sun cut her off.

"It doesn't matter that she is an American- she is one of us now, and we must help her as we helped each other. Now, what are we going to do to cheer her up? She cannot afford to despair, if she does she'll end up like Xiu." The little girl declared, and everyone shivered at the memory of the gisaeng from the past.

Xiu, a Chinese girl, had come to the gisaeng house at the start of the war. No one knew how she got to Gwan Dae, but she was the talk of the town. Strikingly beautiful, every girl wanted to look like Xiu and every man wanted to have her. But she did not last. Areum knew from the start, from the moment she laid eyes on the young blossom of a woman, that she was just too delicate and too precious to survive such a brutal fate. She cared too deeply, loved too much, and cried too genuinely. It took only two weeks for her to fall into a deep depression at the horrors that were going on all around her. The others had tried to pull her out of it, tried to save her, but there was nothing they could do. She was too far gone in sorrow and despair, and within the month she simply faded away into nothing, until one morning her body, all skin and bones, refused to wake. Seo Hwa had thrown her corpse into the ditch outside the house borders, and no one ever saw her again.

Areum mourned her death for a long time after that, more than she let anyone know. She'd be damned if she let the same thing happen to Margaret.

"You are right… But what can we do?" Areum asked, nervously, wringing her hands.

The group was silent for a moment, all deep in thought, before Nari, the marvelously clever one, spoke up. "I know!" She exclaimed, eyes bright, "We can make her enjoy it."

They all exchanged a look of horror before Hea stared at the girl. "What? That's impossible! No one can enjoy rape unless you are the man."

Nari tsked knowingly, wagging a finger at Hea. "Ah, but it won't be defilement. We will teach her to protect her mind by pleasuring her body. If she takes charge of every encounter she has with a man, if she does more than simply cooperating, she will forget that she is here by force and it will seem like she's just out with a date. And besides, which one of us can say we've _never_ had a pleasurable experience with a man?" She murmured with a slight smile.

The group of girls seemed to blush simultaneously, each recalling their own rare moments of happiness when they happened to get that perfect soldier who treated them just right. Areum pursed her lips in worry, knowing that this could backfire in so many ways. "Are you sure? She is smart, she will know what we're doing."

"We are saving her," Hea hissed at her best friend, "that is more than anyone did for us. Now all of you, get back to your rooms before we are seen."

Areum sighed inwardly as the group dispersed, each of the girls tip-toeing back to their own rooms. Hea stood up to leave, reaching for her oil lamp, when Areum grabbed the hem of her gown insistently.

"Do not allow your pride to hinder you." She whispered in the dim light of the room. Though she could not see Hea's face, she knew it was screwed in confusion and anger. Her thoughts were confirmed when her friend yanked her gown from Areum's hand, sweeping out of the room in silence.

Areum closed her eyes in sadness, looking towards Margaret who slept in the corner, before blowing out the candle and allowing darkness to swallow the room.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello all! Thanks so much for your continuous support- all my reviewers are my biggest gifts, and I cherish every constructive comment! I hope to be continuing the story as one of my longer, more detailed ones, and as the year progresses my updates should get more frequent. (Also, side note- if you like my work, check out my newest Game Of Thrones story 'Golden Lion'- i personally think it's coming along well, and any suggestions from you are more than welcome!)**

 ***This chapter contains: fluff, brotherly love, all the BJ and Hawk feels, (no slash), and mentions of drinking/self destruction. I own nothing, as always.**

"Have any of you guys seen Hawk?" BJ asked loudly as he strolled into the mess tent, pulling his army green jacket tighter around him as the chilly wind whistled through the compound. They were on the cusp of winter now, and it wouldn't be long before the snow and ice came.

Charles, Colonel Potter, Klinger, and father Mulcahy all shook their heads somberly. Hawkeye had been a mess since Mary Clarence's visit. BJ couldn't help but feel guilty, too- he was his best friend, his 'older brother', it was his job to make sure he kept his head above the water. But lately, it seemed like nothing could make him better in the slightest. He never joked and rarely smiled, and when he spoke, it was only to ask for an instrument during surgery. He was a completely different person, and it was scaring everybody. The colonel had brought up the prospect of having Sidney come down for a visit a few days ago, but BJ had protested vehemently on his friend's behalf. Sidney Freedman was a great man who could do a lot of great things for people, but right now he knew it would only make Hawkeye feel worse.

"I haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon, as a matter of fact," Father Mulcahy muttered in concern, "I wonder where he's gone to… poor boy."

"Yeah, well, he can't have gone far. I'll go look some more." BJ interjected quickly, trying to stop the pity party before it started. Although one couldn't help but feel sorry for the black haired doctor when they saw him, he knew how much Hawkeye hated negative attention from others.

The others nodded in agreement before continuing their meal in a quiet, nervous conversation. "Oh, and Hunnicutt?" Colonel called out to BJ just before he could walk out the door, "I'll give you one hour to find him before I call Sidney."

The tone of his CO's voice sent chills down BJ's spine, and he didn't even turn around as he heard the words. He simply paused tensely before sweeping out the door, leaving the rest in an uncomfortable silence.

* * *

BJ stood, frozen, as he watched his friend down the third glass of scotch he'd had that evening. It was a quarter to three in the morning, and the blond doctor had searched everywhere he could before resigning himself to the one last terrible possibility. Drinking. He knew his best friend liked the stuff, but by no means was he an alcoholic... at least, that's what he thought. No, what terrified him was the fact that Hawkeye didn't seem to care at all what he was doing to himself. These past few days he'd eaten next to nothing, slept less than he did when he was in college studying for med school finals, and all in all looked like a dead man walking. The last thing his body needed was alcohol, and there was only so much he could take before serious medical problems would start rearing their ugly heads. He knew the awful repercussions, yet he continued it anyway.

His slightly silvering black hair seemed to glow in the dim lighting of the closed bar, and Hawkeyes silhouette looked terribly thin with the prominent veins showing on his pale forearms next to the bottles of whiskey and vodka.

Trying to control himself, BJ summoned the will to speak. "What are you doing?" He croaked, voice hoarse and barely containing his tears.

Hawkeye didn't speak for a long moment, leaning back before swiveling around on the bar stool to face him. His blue eyes were dull, and dark circles hollowed out his sockets, making his face look paler than snow. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm doing the same thing I've done since I got here. Drink."

BJ didn't even realize the moment he lost control, shoving the scotch glasses and bottle off the table in front of Hawkeye, the glass shattering loudly on the floor just feet in front of him. "You moron, you're gonna kill yourself!" He yelled, face red.

Hawkeye, stunned at his friend's outburst, let his mouth drop open. BJ was never the one to get enraged, normally acting as the calm to his crazy, the yin to his yang. Although Hawkeye was older, people always mistook BJ for the wiser, gentler spirit who got Hawkeye out of trouble every time he got himself in it. He knew drinking wasn't the smartest idea, but at this point, what'd he have to lose? Margaret was good as dead and it was all his fault- if they had just stayed together that night, if he'd done _something, anything,_ none of this would have happened. And when he'd lost her, she'd become more than a friend. They had crossed that line when they kissed under fire, admitting to one another that they'd die in each other's arms with passion and hope, that out of every person they'd ever met, the only one they'd pick to spend their final moments with would be each other. All his life he'd gone from girl to girl, telling himself that no woman could tie him down and that he'd be happy to roam free forever. But with Margaret, it was a different story. Right as he'd found something special, something real, it'd been stolen away. And he'd done nothing to stop it. He didn't want to be happy anymore. He didn't care to try to make light out of the hellish war zone they were forced to live in. He didn't want to be optimistic anymore because it was so, _so_ exhausting. And where had it gotten him? It had gotten him a bar stool in a shack up Korean whiskey stand at a quarter to four in the morning, just a few shots away from getting knocked out cold by alcohol poisoning. Why did BJ care so much? It had been a puzzle to the man since the blonde doctor had arrived, but especially now- why did he care about such a lost cause?

"Then I'll die happy." He finally mustered flatly, his attempt at a quip completely falling away as he reached for another glass.

The firmness of BJ's grip around his wrist jerked him out of his slightly drunk stupor, and he turned in shock to face him.

"If you willingly and knowingly do this to yourself, then you'd better damn well bury me, too." He stated, voice dead serious. So serious, in fact, that it horrified Hawkeye back to reality. He was immediately shaken by his best friends determination, his vehement insistence and surety. "God help me, Hawk, if you jump, so do I. We're in this together. And if you wanna keep drinking, then go ahead. Just make sure someone's around to tell your father, peg and Erin why their son and their husband can't come home."

Horror struck like lightning in the dark haired doctor's eyes when he finally comprehended that BJ wasn't joking. He was serious. It wasn't exactly a suicide pact, but it might as well have been. Hawkeye knew what would happen if he simply gave up and died. BJ would blame himself, even though obviously none of it was his fault- he'd be distraught, probably start drinking, getting depressed. He'd let himself go and just keep getting worse until... Hawkeye didn't even know if he could handle the idea.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he put the glass down. His hands were trembling and but for BJ's firm grip on his wrist, they would have shaken even harder. They stood there in silence for a long time in the empty bar, holding one another in a protective embrace. BJ's hand never left his friends wrist, but this time, instead of stopping him from reaching for a glass, it was to feel his pulse. To make sure his heart was still beating, that he was still there.

"I'm sorry, Beej," Hawkeye's low, rough voice broke the quiet. "I'm sorry you're friends with such a selfish man."

BJ couldn't help the small, sad quirk that tugged ever so slightly at the edge of his lips. "I'm not." He murmured, giving his best friend a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not sorry for anything. I'm not sorry for sticking around through the crazy antics and stressful nights... I will never be sorry because it brought me to you."

"I killed her," Hawkeye's voice broke off in a choked sob against BJ's chest, "I left her there, she made me go but I should've stayed-"

"Stop it. You stop that right now, Benjamin Pierce. You and I both know that none of this was your fault." BJ cut him off sharply, shaking him slightly to enforce his point. "It was a tragedy, Hawk, neither you nor Margaret had any control over what could or couldn't have happened. Tell me you understand that."

Hawkeye was silent, looking down at his feet as his black hair hung in wisps across his face. _I can't,_ he thought, _I can't say what isn't true… I can't-_

"Hawkeye." BJ's calm yet firm voice caught his attention, and a calloused finger forced his chin up to look at him. "I need to hear it."

The raven-haired doctor swallowed harshly before whispering, "I understand."

There was a quiet for a long time, where none of them made a sound, and all was quiet except for the slight buzzing of the old light bulbs that were already starting to flicker across the bar counter top. BJ was the first to shake out of his stupor, shrugging his aching shoulders while sighing heavily.

"C'mon. It's late. We should get some sleep before Rosie finds us here in the morning." He murmured through a yawn, arm around his friend while leading him outside.

They walked the whole way back to the swamp on autopilot, both just seconds away from falling asleep dead on their feet. Somehow, though, BJ managed to get them both back to their cots, tip-toeing past a sleeping Charles before getting ready for bed. Or, more accurately, BJ got _both_ of them ready for bed. Hawkeye, already half-drunk and sleep deprived, barely had the strength to take his boots off. He made no protest as BJ slipped his fatigues off and got him into his green tee shirt and skivvies, before pulling the wool blankets over his lanky frame.

Back and heart aching, the Californian native finally got himself into bed, eyes half-lidded as he read and kissed Peg's letter one last time before sleep.

"Beej?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

BJ smiled softly in the darkness, wrapping his blankets around himself. "I love you, too, pal."


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello everyone! Thanks for the reviews and for sticking by me- I really appreciate it! Please click that review button and give me your thoughts on this chapter!**

 **Warning: This chapter contains sexual content.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Margaret had not spoken all morning. Today was the day. The day that she'd have her first "visit" as they called it. Areum had been watching from a distance all morning, nervously dancing around the fact that Margaret had been different since that night they'd argued. The once proud woman was quickly falling down a dangerous path, and although they had made a plan, Areum was reluctant to follow it. Deceiving had never been her strong suit- she was never good at lying, even if it was for the right reasons. _I can not help her if she doesn't listen to me,_ she thought solemnly as she pumped water into a bucket from the well outside their room. _You must,_ a voice inside her kept chiming, _you must save her. She is here for a reason- you must save her from herself._

Areum slammed the bucket down on the ground, hard enough for the water to slosh out and for Margaret to flinch and look up at the source of the noise. Her face was pale and it was clear she was losing weight- her blonde hair was getting longer, hanging in defeated wisps about her gaunt eyes. It was clear something had to be done.

"What's wrong with you?" She asked flatly, voice devoid of all emotion.

Frustration and anger bubbling up in her veins, Areum gripped Margaret's shoulders harshly and pulled her to her feet.

"Ow! What the hell are you doing?! I thought you-"

"Listen to me." Areum cut off, a powerful note coming into her voice. _Since when could I sound like that?_ She wondered. "You must hear me and hear me well." She commanded through gritted teeth, and in surprise, Margaret's eyes met hers.

"Tonight you will have your first man. He will come, whether you like it or not, and his will shall be done, no matter what you do." She said firmly.

Margaret's face clouded with fear, and just talking about the subject started to strangle her like a vice. "N-no, I-"

"Yes." Areum hissed, shaking her harder, willing her to listen. "But no matter what happens then, you must hear me now, eh? Do you hear me?"

Margaret eyed her with confusion, nodding ever so slowly. And although her fear was almost tangible, Areum could tell she was listening.

"When he comes for you, you must follow exactly what I say now. You listen?"

Margaret nodded again.

"When he walk through door, you must close your eyes. Close your eyes, Margaret san, and should he demand you open them, pretend you are in beautiful place. You _must,_ you must pretend so much it become real. Imagine you in beautiful, wonderful place where nothing bad happens and only good things live."

"But how can I-"

"You must." Areum cut her off again, whispering vehemently in her ear, "You must imagine, Margaret. And in this place you are with your love, who was with you the night you came here."

Margaret's eyes started to well with tears at the mention of Hawkeye. She'd tried to keep him off her mind for so long now, the pain that came with thinking of him too unbearable.

"Listen, listen," Areum hushed her, shaking her gently. "You must pretend that he is the one you will be with. You must look at the man in the room, and see only him. You must not shy away from his touch. You must not fight him. You must take control. _You_ must initiate and navigate, _you_ must take him before he takes you. Understand? You _must not be afraid._ No matter what happens, you must not cower at his touch or try to escape his grasp. You must _lean into it,_ because when the time comes, he will not be a stranger. He will be your love. And you two shall be together, and no matter what really happening, you will look into his eyes and see only your man."

At this point Margaret was trembling slightly, and her eyes fell from Areum's to look at the floor. "No," she whispered, "i-it doesn't work like that. I can't just pretend it isn't happening." Her voice cut off with a sob, "I can't do that."

Areum frowned, gripping the major's shoulders harder. "You _can,_ " she insisted with force, "you can and you _must._ For if you do not, you will lose yourself. You cannot forget who you are. You are Margaret San. You are strong woman from America, who has survived in a man's world, and you _will_ grab him by the ear, _look_ him in the eye, and say, "I am Margaret of America, and I am _not_ afraid of you. You will mount my bed, feel my power, and I will make _you_ mine."".

Margaret looked up slowly at Areum, eyes widening in realization, and the young girl knew the message had been received. Relief flooding her heart, she knew she had done the right thing. Margaret would be ok now. _At least for this night,_ she thought somberly.

The blonde woman took Areum's hands in hers with a renewed light in her eyes. "Thank you, Areum… Thank you so much. For everything."

Areum smiled at her, squeezing her hands tightly. "You must never thank me. We are _jamae_ now, _sisters._ It is what you do for family."

* * *

Margaret walked through the courtyard gardens that night, and hour before her client would arrive. Her long silk dress swept behind her as she went, admiring the violets that climbed up the brick stone wall. Roses were blooming in neatly trimmed rows, red blossoms adorning the landscape. It was still beautiful. A small chuckle escaped her mouth as she realized how ludicrous that sounded. Even in a brothel house, even in a prison, it was _beautiful_.

She reached out and stroked the petals of the rose gently, the cool buds caressing her palms. "I will go to battle tonight," she whispered to the flower without knowing why, "I will be fighting for my honor and myself. I can't give up now. I won't. You won't hear me giving up. I promise."

The wind blew softly through the trees, whispering gently in her ears. Margaret smiled to herself and looked up to the starry sky with bittersweetness. "I miss you, too, Pierce." She murmured into the night.

* * *

The night came as Areum had said. The soldier was tall and thin, spoke no english and gave no mercy. His voice was rough as his movements, and he jeered as he undressed.

 _I am Margaret._

He tossed her to the bed, but she did not resist. Her body seemed to sway peacefully in the air as it landed on the mattress.

 _Of America._

She grunted and took charge, flipping him over so she straddled on top of him. The look of bewilderment and shock on his face was one to be relished in.

 _I am not afraid of you._

Hawkeye's cobalt eyes were staring back at her. They were in a field, somewhere nondescript, devoid of anyone else but them. He was watching her patiently with that ever present smirk of his, black hair fluttering across his forehead in the breeze.

 _You will mount my bed._

Their kisses were passionate and fiery, making up for everything they'd missed. He was forceful, but she was stronger. She radiated dominance, every move conveying power. " _Hi, good lookin', get sick here often?"._ Jokes, his witty demeanor, and the lack of fear in the atmosphere allowed her to laugh freely at his banter.

 _Feel my power._

Anger, terror, doubt, sadness all raced across her mind in a flurry of thrusts and contortions. Her limbs snaked around him like vines, consuming and powerful and sturdy. She was not lost. _I'm here, Hawkeye!_ Waving, trying desperately to get his attention, _I'm still here! I'm not dead, look! I'm here, I'm alive! I'M STILL HERE!_

 _And I will make you mine._

It happened in a blur. One minute she was climbing, the next was ecstasy, and then… She was alone. All by herself in the bedroom, she finally allowed herself to open her eyes. She lay sprawled across the silk bed, naked as the day she was born. Her clothes were torn to shreds and strewn on the floor. The window was ajar slightly, allowing enough wind in to blow the curtains in a beckoning manner. There was no sign of the soldier. In fact, if it wasn't for the feeling of satisfaction and the absence of clothes, she would have thought it was all a dream.

She looked all around, in a daze as she half-heartedly searched for Hawkeye. He was just here- they were having the most wonderful time together. There was no war, she was no prisoner. And for a moment, _just_ a moment, she was in paradise.

She drew in a sharp breath, looking out the window at the sky. "Thank you, Hawkeye."

She fell asleep alone that night, slumber deep and dreamless.


	13. Chapter 13: Tonight I lose a sister

**Hello everybody! I apologize for the late update- I will try to continue adding chapters more frequently, but keep in mind that I have other fanfics to write as well. Thank you so much for all of your support, and please drop me a review sometime! :) Disclaimer: I do not own M*A*S*H**

When Margaret finally awoke, she was back in her old cramped room. She lay on the bamboo mat with a thin cotton blanket over her, covering her bare skin and body. A slight breeze drifted through the air, causing her to shiver. Her eyes cracked open to roam lazily across the room, gaze resting on Areum, who knelt with her back to Margaret as she cleaned their rice bowls.

"... What time is it?" Margaret rasped, voice hoarse as she sat up blearily.

At the sound of her sister's voice, Areum brightened and rushed to her side. "Margaret san! You awake! It almost noon, now, you sleep long time."

The blonde nurse sighed in exhaustion, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before the memories of last night came flooding back to her. She sat paralyzed for a minute, and Areum held her breath in fear. _Was she about to fall apart?_ What if her teachings didn't work? She couldn't fail Margaret.

"I did it." The breathy voice cut across the room, bringing Areum out of her thoughts.

"Huh?" She asked Margaret, and to her surprise, the nurse did not look despaired at all. She had newfound determination in those azul eyes, a light that had been restored.

"I did it! I-I- I'm still alive! It worked! I can go through with it now!"

Areum smiled, thanking the gods that her friend had been strong enough to survive her first night. Everything was going well and dandy, until her brain registered Margaret's last words and she froze. "Go through with what, Margaret San?"

Margaret shook her shoulders excitedly, a smile threatening to turn up the corner of her lips. "I have a plan. Tonight, we're going to find a way to escape. You'll finally be getting out of here, all of you! Aren't you excited?"

Areum's stomach dropped. "W-w-what?" She asked in horror, lowering her voice so no one else could hear.

Margaret bustled about the room, moving her mat away to sit beside the young girl. "Last night, I made a plan. After… Well, you know…" Her eyes were haunted for a moment as memories drifted over her. And it was then that Areum's joy fell flat in her stomach, her happiness deflated like a balloon. It was not determination or pride she saw in Margaret's eyes. It was hysterical desperation. She had made it through one night successfully, but one more "client" and she would surely crack. "I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to scout out an escape plan, and now is our chance! Don't you see, Seo-Hwa is so busy dealing with those perverts who are after me that she won't be on our backs constantly. Everyone is distracted, we can _find a way out!_ "

Areum's mouth was dry, and she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Margar-"

"Anyways," Margaret continued, "I figured out that there's one place in the courtyard that isn't flanked to the left by guards or to the right by soldiers. It's just below the terrace wall. I saw it yesterday when I was looking at the roses. If we could dig beneath it, I think it's shallow enough so that we could crawl to the other side."

"Margaret!" Areum exclaimed, putting a hand over the blonde woman's mouth. "You are speaking nonsense! I thought I told you to rid yourself of those thoughts a week ago!"  
Margaret shoved Areum's hand off so she could speak. "Areum, I'm serious. This time, I know it will work! If you just hear me out on this, I can help you. I can help all of you-"

"Sesange, have you lost your mind?! No one is going anywhere! You know how dangerous it is within these walls, let alone outside them! We must lower our voices so no one can hear our treason." Areum bit out colder than she meant to, turning her back to Margaret. She could feel her heart practically beating out of her chest. How long had Margaret been forming this plan? And to what extent? Had she spoken aloud about it to anyone else? Fear and confusion and anger raced through the teenager all at once, and she simply didn't know what to say. The penalty for even _speaking_ such thoughts was death.

"Treason to whom?" Margaret snapped, face contorting in disdain. _Does she honestly not see what they're doing to us? I only survived last night because Hawkeye came to my dreams and helped me through it._

"To the headmistress and my people." Areum answered, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "I cannot betray them."

"Betray them?!" Margaret cried, " _Betray them?!_ They don't care about you! They don't care about your family, your friends, they don't care about anyone! Seo Hwa gets rich off of _your suffering,_ don't you get it? You can come with me, the army will help you defect, I'm sure of it! You won't have to live like this anymore if we just work together!"

The more she talked about escaping, the more that word assaulted Areum's ears, the further the distance between them grew. It was like a cold shadow, slithering onto the narrow lifeboat of happiness they'd managed to piece together and highlighting their differences. "I am loyal to the north!" She barked back in defense.

Margaret laughed bitterly. "Loyalty?! What do _you_ know about loyalty? You're 19, for god's sake, you haven't walked the earth long enough to even get a taste of that word!"

Areum bit her lip as she felt a lump in her throat. So this was it. She had hoped, _prayed_ that it wouldn't come to this, but it had. She knew what she was about to do was wrong, but she had no other choice. Margaret was lost, and just like Xiu, she could not save her. "You have voiced your treachery towards my home. I am no longer your mentor, and you… you are no longer my sister."

The words cut deeper than either of them expected. A suffocating silence fell upon the room, and Margaret balked slightly in shock. When the girl's words finally settled in her mind, a wave of sadness crashed upon her and she looked away. Her voice cut deeper than the major thought it would, and the words stung like bitter tears. Only then did Margaret realize that she really _was_ shedding salty drops onto her dress. Her filthy, awful dress. The dress she'd been wearing when that man, that _creature,_ came in and… No. She couldn't think about it. She couldn't afford to fall into that hole. Not now, not when she had a chance to save herself. "Fine. If that's how you want it to be-"

"That," Areum cut her off, "is how it must be."

Margaret wilted, shoulders sagging as the girl's back was turned to her. It was so quiet that their breathing could be heard.

Suddenly, the door to their room slid open and Hea popped her head in. "Headmistress says it's time for chores. You'd better hurry before you're late."

To Areum's surprise, Margaret was the first to stand up and walk briskly towards the door. As Hea disappeared, the blonde turned to Areum one last time, who looked up at her in an unreadable expression.

"Don't follow me." Margaret said flatly, and with a sweep of her silk hanbok, she was gone. Areum knew she wouldn't return that night.

 _It isn't your fault, it isn't your fault, you did the right thing,_ she kept repeating to herself over and over again as she got dressed for the day. _S-s-she was acting irrationally, you don't think like that anymore._ Her hands shook as she buttoned up the front of her working gown. _You can never leave, there's no other option. She was beyond your help, thinking like that._ She collapsed on the floor, weak in the knees all of a sudden. _You don't need her._

When she was sure she was alone and everyone else had gone to their chores, Areum wept for the first time in a long time. She wept for her own loss, she wept for the man who would never see his lover again, and she wept for Margaret, and all of the horrible things she knew would happen to her.

* * *

Margaret walked purposefully through the courtyard, angrily wiping the remnants of her tears away. _Houlihans don't cry,_ she reminded herself, almost picturing her father lecture her on strength and the importance of keeping your emotions in check.

Last night was perhaps the worst night in Margaret's life. The only thing that kept her from throwing herself in front of the barrel of a guard's rifle was picturing Hawkeye, his soft blue eyes and signature smile waiting for her, calling to her. She'd been buying herself some time by escaping reality with visions of those she loved, but she knew it was only a matter of days before the present caught up to her, and memories would no longer be enough. Spotting the woman she needed to talk to, Margaret tried not to look suspicious as she strolled over to the well where the gisaeng was drawing up water.

"Hello, Nari." Margaret said in surprisingly fluent Korean. She was far from proficient, but over the past few weeks she'd managed to pick up enough to hold a conversation. It was amazing what one could learn when they needed it to survive.

Apparently, Nari was surprised too, because her eyes widened at the sight of the blonde speaking her native language. "Su Min? You speak Korean?" She asked.

"A little," Margaret replied, "but that is not important right now. Meet me in Chin-Sun's room tonight after everyone is asleep."

Nari frowned in confusion, pulling the filled bucket over the cobblestone edge of the well. "What? Why?"

Margaret's normally bright blue eyes turned to a stormy cobalt, and her expression was one of grave severity. "Just do it. And tell no one."

Nari raised an eyebrow at the woman, wondering if last night had pushed her over the edge. "Su Min, what are you going on about? Does Areum know about this?"

"Tell no one. Give me your sister's honor." Margaret said lowly, repeating the phrase she'd heard repeatedly exchanged between gisaengs since she arrived.

Nari's expression changed suddenly from one of doubt to one of seriousness. "Accept my sister's honor," she replied in standard exchange.

Margaret nodded slowly, making sure she understood before moving on to find Chin Sun. She could only hope that none of them would rat her out to the headmistress- she _had_ to make this work.

 ***Side note: "Sesange" means 'oh my god' in Korean, an exclaim of disbelief**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello everybody! So sorry for the long wait to update, but I am still here! This is NOT, i repeat, NOT the final chapter by any means (sorry if it seems that way). A lot of exciting things coming up! Please hit that review button and give me your thoughts (no flames, please)! Disclaimer: I do not own M*A*S*H in any way.**

The group of young women were all terribly confused as they crammed themselves into the small space that was Chin-Sun's room. It was a quarter to one in the morning, and the moonlight streamed in the paper windows like white frosting, casting cold shadows across the floor. The old oil lamp that burnt in the corner was the only source of warmth, and everyone was afraid that the headmistress or a guard would walk by and see what they were up to.

"What do you think Su-Min wants to talk to us about?"

"Why is Areum not here as well?"

"We're dead if the headmistress finds out we're meeting in secret like this!"

"She won't."

Everyone stopped their hushed whispers at the sound of Margaret's voice. The blonde woman stood in the doorway for a split second before sweeping silently into the room, her fair hair glowing against the light of the lamp. "No one will breathe a word of this to Seo Hwa or anyone else. Before I tell you what is about to happen, I need to know I can trust you… Can I trust you?"

Everyone nodded wordlessly, staring in awe at the way the new american carried herself. No longer was she the hesitant, fearful foreigner who was brought in weeks ago. Now she looked… different. She spoke their native language with surprising practice. Her eyes were determined, but empty. It appeared that she carried herself with confidence, not because she wanted to, but because she had to. Like it was a heavy weight on her shoulders, a burden that she was forced to bear. And most noticeably of all, Areum was absent from her side.

"Su Min, why are we all here?" Chin Sun chirped, asking the question they were all thinking.

Margaret sighed before sitting down amidst the circle of girls cross legged. "I know I am an outsider. I know none of you know me, let alone trust me, but if you value yourselves at all you will listen to what I'm about to say… Tonight, we are escaping."

There was a chorus of gasps around the room, and it destroyed Margaret to see that they were not happy or excited at the prospect of leaving the hellish place. They were terrified. Like pigs lined up for slaughter who didn't want to leave. _They've been brainwashed for so long,_ she thought woefully, t _hey've forgotten what it's like to be free_. Chin Sun fearfully hid her face in Gayoon's shoulder and Hye-Ja's hands flew to cover her mouth.

"Su Min, you can't be serious! You know we cannot do that, they will kill us!" Hea spoke up from the crowd.

"It would be suicide!" Hye-Ja declared.

Margaret closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew it would take some convincing. "I know it's scary. And I know there is a possibility that things… won't work out. But what's on the other side is freedom. Doesn't that matter to any of you?"

They all looked at her dissaprovingly and Nari crossed her arms. "Su Min, I know these past few weeks have been difficult for you, but you must understand. There's 100 of them and their rifles, and 50 of us and our foolish dreams. This is our destiny now." She said resignedly, and something broke inside of Margaret.

"I am _sick_ of that excuse!" She exclaimed, cheeks growing red. "Destiny is not a cop out. You _choose_ your destiny by the actions you take and the choices you make. You are all worth more than your bodies and anyone who tells you otherwise is wrong! Don't you get it? You're _slaves!_ You're goddamned prostitutes who're forced to endure whatever scumbag comes your way and Seo Hwa profits off it! You're used, you're violated, you're abused on a daily basis and all you can say is that's your _destiny?!_ "

The group was silent, and Hea's attention peaked.

"I know a lot of you have forgotten what it's like to make your own choices and live your own lives… But there is _more_ than this. I know it. I've lived it before I came here. There is good in people and no matter how hopeless it gets, you can always see it if you try. This _isn't_ living. Being sex slaves to arrogant bastards is _not_ life, don't you see? Your 'destinies', whatever they may be, do not lie within these walls. I don't know much, but I can guarantee you that no one deserves to be a gisaeng. No one deserves what we've gone through. So, yeah, I know it's risky and I know you're scared. And I also know, that to most of you, I'm some delusional gook who wouldn't know the first thing about Korean culture or values. But I like to think I've learned a lot in my time here with my family at the 4077th. I've seen people, _your people,_ rebuild out of nothing. I've seen resilience and hope and kindness, hell, without you my friends and I probably wouldn't have made it this far. Please, let me help you. Let me get you out of here before it's too late! The doors to the North are closing and they're closing fast. And once they're closed, you, your children, and your children's children will be stuck here forever. With people like Seo Hwa who use you and will never appreciate you. I may not know much, but I know that I'd rather put a bullet in my head than spend another hour here. You are worth more than this. Please let me help you… Who's with me?"

The room was silent, the only sound being the distant chirping of crickets and the subtle breeze making it's way through the rickety wooden walls. Everyone sat in contemplation of what they just heard. For most, the idea of escape had been unimaginable until now. They didn't have the resources or the courage to venture outside the compound walls.

But for the first time in a long time, something ignited within Hea. Something that she hadn't felt in a long, long time… ambition. Su Min was right. She'd known that all along, but she'd forced it down deep inside to deal with the daily horrors of her life. But now she was done. Done with Seo Hwa, done with the soldiers, done with being a gisaeng. She'd been asleep for a long time and had just then been awakened. She could not close her eyes again.

"I am." Hea spoke with as much force as her voice could muster. All eyes in the room turned to her, and Margaret's face flashed with hope.

"Hea, surely you are not considering this, are you?" Nari gasped, looking to her.

Hea stood up and crossed her arms. "My ancestors did not fight for me to die a gisaeng. I am with Su Min."

Whispers echoed amongst the girls, each looking to one another for some form of assurance or denial.

"I am, too." Chin Sun piped up, standing with Hea, "Su Min is right- I'm tired of doing whatever headmistress says and I'm tired of being afraid."

"If Chin Sun goes, then I must also." Gayoon said solemnly, standing up, too.

And Margaret watched with growing spirit as, one by one, each girl stood up in solidarity, joining her on the side of the room. By the time she looked around, every girl was standing except for Nari, who looked reluctant and scared as she knelt on the floor.

"Nari, why do you hesitate?" Hye-Ja asked.

Nari shook her head as tears streamed down her face. "I… I don't know."

Margaret walked over to the young girl, kneeling down beside her. "Nari," she said quietly, and Nari looked up at her, "your destiny is so much greater than this. I can feel it."

For the first time in her young life, Nari believed it.

And underneath the pale, bright moon, 20 young women prepared to flee.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi guys! I am so sorry for the long wait- i don't normally go on unnannounced hiatus, but school and life got in the way. Expect more chapters soon, though, now that I'm back in the groove! Please let me know what you think- I know this chapter is short and I apologize for that, but it's an important one and a key to the storyline. Thanks!**

 *****Every time I get a review Margaret punches an enemy in the face*****

The news came late that Tuesday, and BJ honestly wasn't prepared for it. They were going to have to bug out. The word came in over the intercom that evening after a grueling 12 hour session in the OR, and all of them were about to fall over from exhaustion.

Hawkeye leaned wordlessly against BJ as the blonde shed his scrubs, tossing the blood-soaked garments into the laundry hamper. He could feel the stuttering breath of his friend against his neck, the clammy way his hands would tremor on his lap. It had been a struggle to get Hawkeye to eat anything over the past few days, and dehydration was starting to become a serious concern of BJ's. He missed the old Hawkeye, the way his friend was before all of this happened. Of course, everyone was devastated that Margaret was missing. Not a day went by that BJ didn't hope and pray for her safe return, they all did! But watching his best friend fall apart was the biggest insult to injury anyone could've imagined. At this point, BJ was waking him up every morning and putting him to bed every night. He was an empty shell of himself, rarely smiling and _never_ joking. He just went through the motions, completing examinations and stitching up patients like some demented toymaker.

It was then that Colonel Potter came bursting through the door, klinger on his heel. "Alright everybody, start packin'!" He barked, startling everyone. "We just got word that the Chinese are hot on our tail, and we gotta bust a move, pronto!"

Hawkeye shot up at this, body suddenly going stiff and rigid as he looked to colonel, eyes wide. "We… we're leaving?" He asked flatly.

Colonel Potter didn't even look at him, he was so busy stuffing his desk things in a box and helping Klinger fold up the portable desk legs. "Yes, and you'd better hurry and pack unless wanna become an item on the asian gourmet menu!"

BJ knew what was coming next, knew what Hawkeye would say. "B-but we can't leave now! What if Margaret comes looking for us? We'll be 40 miles south of here and she'll be left in an empty compound!" He exclaimed.  
Colonel Potter looked sadly to BJ, exchanging silent words. _Paranoia._ Both knew it was a slim to none possibility that Margaret would make it back by herself. They hadn't heard much from headquarters, but BJ observed enough to know that in situations like this, a special ops team would have to go in and rescue captives by force. The likelihood that Margaret could do anything to get out of there was practically zero. But Hawkeye was still so desperately hopeful, so utterly devastated that he clung to any positive delusion he could.

"I'm afraid we don't have a choice, son." Colonel said solemnly.

BJ put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry, Hawk, I'm sure that if she makes her way here one of our guys will spot her and take her home. It'll be alright."

Hawkeye looked horrified, staring at BJ and shaking his head. "I can't just _leave_! BJ, I left her once, I can't leave her again!"

BJ sighed heavily, knowing this would be difficult. He gave his friend a knowing look, trying to break him from his depression. "Hawk. C'mon. You know we gotta go."

Hawkeye gave them both a withering glare before disappearing out the door, body trembling with rage. Feeling awful, BJ turned to go after him when the colonel stepped in.

"Let him be, son. He needs some space." Colonel said gently, making an effort to clatter less as he packed all his boxes of whiskey into a crate. Klinger was helping, folding the chairs and lamps so they could pack it up and leave as soon as possible. Trucks were already lined up outside the compound, waiting to transport the camp to their new location.

BJ stood alone, all of his things in a suitcase that he held limply in his left hand. A breeze rustled through the air, and the blond captain turned around to stare off at the mountains beyond. Those looming, menacing peaks covered in foliage that seemed to go on north forever. They were vast and enormous, and somewhere deep in those mountains was Margaret. Margaret, the head nurse who they all knew and loved. The logical part of BJ's mind knew the odds were stacked against them. Over 90% of captured POWs never came back alive. And as cruel as it was, he couldn't ignore that Margaret probably wasn't at the top of the army's rescue list. She was not a decorated sergeant or a well known strategist. She was just one nurse in one of the hundreds of MASHs stationed throughout Korea. Just a pawn to the army. But to them, to Hawkeye, to the entire 4077th, she was everything. They lived in their own world out here, where everyone knew everyone and they weren't just a unit. They were a family. And suddenly, BJ understood what Hawkeye was saying. It _did_ feel like they were leaving her behind. Intellectually, he knew she'd most likely never walk all the way back to this very location. And if somehow she did, the army would most likely have scouts patrolling the area and, if by god's good graces the enemy didn't get to her first, an ally would spot her and get her back to them. But still, leaving now… Just felt wrong. Like they'd given up on her. Like they were leaving her to die, abandoning her.

It took all of his power to tear his gaze away from those mountains and turn back to the compound, where he stood loyally, waiting for his best friend to come back so he could catch him when he fell.


	16. Chapter 16

**Here it is! The escape you've all been waiting for- hope you enjoy!**

 *****Every review I get adds another second onto Margaret and Hawkeye's reunion kiss*****

The smell of musk and dirt was so strong it was assaulting, sinking heavily into the stagnant night air as they dug with their hands and feet beneath the courtyard walls. Margaret was constantly looking over her shoulder to make sure no guards could see them, caught between a dizzying array of adrenaline fueled thrill and extreme panic. They were breaking out. There was no going back now. It was the dead of night, and all 20 of the girls had nothing with them but the clothes on their backs.

The courtyard was relatively small, with the well in the center and flower terraces climbing up the brick walls that surrounded it. It was only the night before she was raped that Margaret remembered spotting the weak spot in the wall, where weather and time had worn away at the concrete mortar and caused a gap to form between the ground and the wall. That was all it took for her to bolt. She didn't know where to go if they managed to get out alive. She didn't know anything other than the fact that she would rather die than live another minute as a prisoner. Driven by thoughts of Hawkeye, her family, her old life, and the impending death she would face if she stayed, she dug into the dirt until her fingernails bled, mixing with the soil to form a clay-like substance that was disturbingly easier to clear away. It had been about an hour of digging, with everyone pitching in, until the hole was deep enough for them to crawl through.

"Go, quickly!" Hea whispered, and, one by one, every girl crawled underneath and slipped out on the other side. Margaret couldn't believe it. _This is actually working,_ she thought to herself in disbelief, _God, this might actually work._ She waited to be the last one out, ensuring everyone got through.

When it was her turn, she knelt down and contorted her body to crawl under the scraping hard cement and the cold, unforgiving ground. The pain was starting to get to her, and she could feel multiple new lacerations form across her back as she squirmed through to the other side. And although she told herself she shouldn't, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of relief when she surfaced on the other side, the compound's outer walls visible now that she was above ground.

That's when everything went wrong.

As if by lightning, a gruff voice began shouting quickly in Korean and the sound of guns started going off. They'd been spotted. Margaret's heart jumped into her throat, and for a fraction of a second, she was convinced they were going to die and it would be all he fault. But then, stubbornness took fear's place and she glared up at the guard tower who was raining down bullets on them. She'd be damned if she'd escape that hell only to die now.

"Into the woods!" She cried, and through the chaos the girls made a dash for the trees that bordered the camp.

"Margaret-San!" A voiced called from behind, and Margaret looked back down the hole to see Areum's face as the young girl scrambled through the dirt.

"Areum!" She gasped, both horrified and happy to see her friend. Another bullet whizzed by her face as Margaret knelt down to pull her out. Grabbing her arms, she knew they only had a few more seconds before soldiers found where they were escaping from. "It's OK, you're gonna be OK, hurry, now, grab my hand and pull," Margaret spoke to her.

Areum's face suddenly contorted into horror and before she could even open her mouth, Margaret whirled around to see a soldier standing behind her, the butt of his rifle coming down hard on her back. Agony swirled in her vision like stars as she heard the audible snapping of bone, accompanied by a stabbing pain in her shoulder. She didn't think, she didn't breathe, she didn't even care about the burning fire racing through her veins and the sticky feeling of blood on her brow. She was a nurse, her job and her being was to heal and to care for others. But in that moment, it was as if raw, primal survival kicked in and she forgot about that life. She didn't remember grabbing the rock that was on the ground next to her. All she saw was the spray of blood from the soldier's face as she smashed it into his cheek, causing him to fall backwards and stop his pursuit of her. Ignoring the pain that was starting to narrow her vision into a tiny pinhole, she yanked Areum out from under the wall and the two fled for the forest.

Every step she took hurt more than anything she'd ever known, but her body refused to stop. It was as if she was on autopilot, legs running as quickly as they possibly could, jumping over fallen logs and weaving in between trees as she kept her hand grasped onto Areum's.

"Su Min, hurry!" A voice she barely recognized as Nari's called from further up, "They will start chasing us soon, we have to get to the river!"

River? What river? Margaret could barely comprehend what Areum was saying by the time she began to lose consciousness. Her legs suddenly felt like lead, and within seconds, her world was fading to black. _No,_ she thought distantly, _not now, I've come so far… No…_

Then she knew no more.

Areum's POV:

She saw when the woman began to crumble, feet falling over each other before falling to the ground like a paper bird. Panic surged through the young girl as she looked over he shoulder to see searchlights pointed into the woods, and an officers' distant voice yelling for backup.

"HEA!" She called into the darkness, "Hea, help!" Grabbing Margaret's arms, she tried to drag her deeper into the woods, towards the Han river where they would be safe. But she was too heavy for the young girl's weak stature; years of malnourishment and lack of excerise had taken its toll on her, and she knew if the both of them stayed in that spot for much longer they'd meet a fate worse than death. She knew Headmistress Seo Hwa kept hounds ready should anyone try and invade the compound. She knew that if they were captured, nothing would pleasure Seo Hwa greater than to feed them alive to her dogs. She'd heard rumors of dutch soldiers who'd tried to take over the compound and failed, only to be mauled to death by the feral beasts kept in chains by the headmistress herself.

Suddenly, breaking her from her thoughts, she felt a pair of hands on hers.

"It's me!" Hea's voice came before Areum could panic, and without any words, the two lifted Margaret by her arms and legs before carrying her off into the woods she once knew so well, trying not to jostle their leader's body as much as possible.

"Is she dead?" Hea asked as they ran, voice breathless.

"No," Areum replied, "but if we don't hurry she will be."

Areum didn't think about anything the rest of the night. She ignored the pain in her chest from heaving so many breaths. She ignored the burn in her legs from running for what felt like hours. Eventually the shouting faded away into the background, and the compound was no longer visible through the dense foliage. Nothing was said except for a periodic shout to the other girls further ahead, making sure everyone was still there. In the light of the moon, Areum could almost make out the silhouettes of the women, Chin Sun on the back of Gayoon as they ran, silk dresses flowing out behind them like ribbons of light that the goddesses were have said to have worn back when Korea was still connected to the heavens. Their silk slippers were meant for anything but running, and within minutes they wore away to nothing, twigs and leaves against their bare feet. They could only hope that they wouldn't step on anything sharp, as infection would mean certain death.

Areum was still in shock. It hadn't quite registered yet that she had escaped what had been her home for 10 long years. She had no idea where they were going, but some time after awhile, they stopped running and Nari's voice was heard up ahead accompanied by the sound of rushing water. It was only then that Areum noticed the light of dawn beginning to creep over the horizon, the dark sky above beginning to pinken.

"We will have to steal one." Nari declared, and only when Areum walked closer could she see what the others were talking about.

They were standing on the banks of a river, lined with birch trees on either side. Many small fishing rafts were tied to them, most likely belonging to a village near by.

"Is Su Min going to be alright?" Gayoon's gentle voice asked. A couple of the women had taken off their own outer petticoats and wrapped Margaret in them, holding her up by her shoulders despite the fact that she was out cold.

"I hope so." Chin Sun replied in a small voice from her perch on Gayoon's back, peeking out through black bangs at their leader's form.

Nari and Hea had been sawing away at the tether rope of a small sailboat for a good ten minutes with a sharp-edged stone before it finally broke, floating free from the river's edge. The girls wasted no time in boarding it, all barely fitting onto the small vessel. Areum gently laid Margaret at their feet, her head in her lap as they sat crosslegged on the wooden deck.

"How can you be sure we're fleeing in the right direction?" Nari asked Hea, who was wading through the water to push the boat on course.

"The stars that go in a line point south," Hea said, giving the boat one last shove before jumping on and letting the river's currents whisk them away.

"How do you know about the stars?" Hye-Ja asked.

A wistful look passed over Hea's features for but a moment before she replied, "My brother taught me."

They rode in silence for the next few hours, all too shocked at their situation to say anything more. The only sound that passed between them was the creaking of the boat and the rushing of the river. Birds began to sing as the sun rose into morning, and Hea was the one who directed the sail to catch what little wind came their way. All their lives they'd known nothing but life as a gisaeng, and in one moment it was gone. Freedom. The feeling of it was so foreign and strange, all they could do was pray that no one would kill them and that Margaret would wake up before long and tell them where to go. They'd secured a makeshift bandage over sher shoulder, which, to all of their worries, was beginning to seep through with red. She'd been wounded when the guard had smashed the butt of his rifle down on her skin, causing a deep gash to run along her shoulder blades. Areum was lost in a sea of unknowns. Would Margaret san be ok? She didn't know. Where would they end up? She didn't know. She didn't even know who she was anymore. They were no longer gisaengs. They weren't soldiers, they weren't family members… They were free. And that was almost just as terrifying.


End file.
